Tsubaki's Revenge
by Britedark
Summary: When Tsubaki, the dark priestess who cursed Kikyo, discovers that Kikyo is alive and the Shikon No Tama is destroyed, she decides on revenge. Sequel to 'An Arrow Not Burning'. alternate timeline
1. Chapter 1: The Curse Fulfilled

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part I: The Curse Fulfilled**

Tsubaki always knew when one of her curses was completed. Even if months had passed, she would feel that peculiar little tug in her mind, then the twitch and fade as the tie to her power faded. Often enough, the final tug would be accompanied by a flash of vision that let her see the fulfillment of her curse.

And so it was, this time. It was not a particularly convenient time for the fulfillment to occur. She was still in the bargaining stage with her next customer—a fat, spoiled youth jealous of his sibling's rise to power, an easy target for her subtle wiles. The faint whispers of her spell had been sufficient to lure him here, to this apparently plain hut in the forest. He was precisely the type of customer she most enjoyed; evil enough to want her dark services, clever enough to find her, and stupid enough not to think about the longer-term implications of employing her.

As the tug came, she stiffened, and motioned him to silence. Her eyes closed as the flash came. As if from a bird's eye view, she saw the porch of a village shrine. A white-haired being was sprawled on the porch, a massive demon claw thrusting out of his back. Copious amounts of blood covered its mostly naked body and the floor-boards. It was almost certainly the half-demon Kikyo had fallen for, and it appeared that he had met a most satisfactory end. Near him, Kikyo was staggering, her right shoulder and back dark with blood. She dropped her bow, managed to totter another two steps, and then collapsed.

Tsubaki smiled as she felt the spell-tie fade. Her death curse had taken rather longer than she had hoped to take effect, but it was fulfilled now. Opening her eyes, her smiled widened as she took in her customer's uneasy expression. "My pardon for interrupting you, my lord," she said smoothly. "But one of my other curses just completed, and I did not wish to miss savoring its final moments."

He looked a bit uneasy. "Er, quite understandable, my lady. Was it, ah, someone I might have known?"

"Oh, no, my lord. She was only the miko of a small village." Tsubaki made a dismissive gesture. "Now I must ask for your patience, my lord. We will have to finish this conversation later"

"What! You can't do that, wench!" he exclaimed, face going red. "I already paid you good money just for advice, and now you want me to leave before we're finished? How dare you demand that of me!"

She gave him a cold look, standing slowly, then raising a hand, palm up, calling a small bit of spell light. The man shrank back, paling. "I choose whom I curse, my lord," she told him in a voice that whitened his face a further shade. "I suggest that you do not want me to choose to curse you."

The young man went deathly white, stammered apologies, and beat a hasty retreat. Tsubaki watched him go with a thin smile, then sighed a little in regret. The man was well off, and had she helped him succeed to his brother's position, she would have had a firm hold over one of the most powerful men in the region. Then she shrugged off the regret. The man was susceptible to flattery; given the right lure, he would be back. If she wanted to bother with him. Once she had the Shikon No Tama, why would she need the power and wealth made possible by controlling the likes of him?

Dismissing the illusion of an austerely furnished hut, Tsubaki turned to the shelves that lined one wall. She would need to act fast. The knowledge that the Shikon No Tama's protector had died would spread like wildfire throughout the youkai world, and she would have competition. Normally, she preferred to rely on her internal powers and her shikigami, but she had known this fight was coming, and had made special preparations. From one box she removed a necklace of protection. From another, she removed packets of tiny arrows, each no longer than the length of her hand. Each was be-spelled with a powerful curse of death, the spell hidden another of illusion, easily aimed and triggered by a mere breath of her will. Those she distributed evenly between her sleeves, and the inner folds of her kimono. The final object she chose was the smallest of her scrying mirrors; a tiny, round mirror of obsidian that easily fit in her palm.

Satisfied with that part of her preparations, Tsubaki left the hut, whispering the words to trigger the protective barrier that would hide and protect her hut until her return. As it momentarily flashed behind her, the dark priestess came to a halt, and braced herself. Then she summoned three of her demons.

They poured out of her eye. It still hurt, and she hated the necessity of that pain. She craved and reveled in the power they loaned her, but she hated the thought of their small souls writhing within her once perfect body. Even more, she hated the woman who had made the alliance with demons a necessity. Kikyo. Kikyo and her smug, righteous airs. Kikyo, who thought she could let herself be attracted to an disgusting hanyo, and not pay the consequences. Kikyo was dead, the victim of the curse, but it wasn't enough. Not until she held the Shikon No Tama in her hand. Not until her beauty was restored, with no need for illusion. Not until she had the eternal youth and beauty she deserved. Not until she could grind these demonic partners of hers into pain-filled dust, for having the temerity to dwell inside of her.

The three demons hovered before her. Tsubaki spoke to the smallest first—a mere wisp of demon, scarce larger than a hummingbird. "You. Find the Shikon No Tama, then stay near it, and show me all that happens. Go." The pale blue shape bobbed twice, then zipped out of sight. "You other two, bear me up, and take me to Kikyo's village," she ordered. "And make haste!"

They wound their serpentine forms around her, and rose into the air. Once above the trees, they twined their necks to shield her head, then increased their forward speed. Tsubaki watched the trees speed by beneath her feet, and wished this power of movement was hers. After Kikyo had thrown her shikigami back into her face, Tsubaki had been forced to retreat to the hut, which was a good six days travel for mere humans. She could not afford the time to travel on foot. If she did not move quickly, six days from now, she would be forced to fight a demon that had already slaughtered hundreds of its own kind, and would probably have tapped into the jewel's power. Tsubaki was confident that she could deal with any low or middle class youkai. But a youkai backed by the full power of the Shikon No Tama? Even she had limits on what she dared try.

The small demon's mind chittered for attention. Holding up the small mirror, Tsubaki breathed on it, murmuring the spell. Instantly, what the demon was seeing appeared in the mirror. Kikyo's body had been moved slightly, and was on its back, arms folded over its chest. The hanyo was still collapsed face down, but the jewel, oddly, seemed to be emanating from beneath him, instead of from the necklace around Kikyo's neck. Even more odd was the barrier around him, crawling with red and white lightening. Tsubaki tried to make sense of the scene. Had the hanyo turned on Kikyo, grabbing the jewel from her? Had they turned on each other, with the hanyo succeeding (with the unknown assistance of her curse), and Kikyo almost succeeding? But then, where did that claw come from?

The barrier disappeared, seeming to drop down and be absorbed by the unmoving body. Tsubaki frowned. If the hanyo had turned on Kikyo, it would surely only be because he'd been planning on stealing the jewel all along. And the only reason she could imagine was that he wanted to transform into a full youkai. But he didn't appear to be transforming. So just what was going on?

The mirror flashed pinkish white, and then went utterly dark, returning to its normal surface. Tsubaki stared at it in astonishment, angrily repeating the spell to tie the small demon's vision to the mirror. Nothing happened. She tried a third time, then, with growing anger, tried to summon the demon to return to her. There was no reaction to the spell. The demon had apparently slipped her control, and chosen to flee. But why?

Before she could formulate an answer to her question, the other two demons slowed abruptly, their heads tossing in agitation. "What?" she demanded. "Why are you slowing down?"

The slightly larger of the two turned its vaguely horse-like head to stare at her, its vertically slit pupils wide, its scaled ears flat against its skull. Like all of the demons she had so far brought under her control, it could not use human words. What it conveyed was an impression of a distant explosion. An explosion of spiritual power.

"What? Can't be!" she scoffed. "Kikyo's dead, and her powers were waning, anyway!"

The other demon made a whining sound, and swung its head to face her. It projected a sense of nothingness. Tsubaki scowled at it. "You aren't making any sense. What is nothing?"

The first demon moaned. As she looked back at it, it managed to project an image of a pinkish-purple sphere. The second demon whined again, and projected the sense of nothingness a second time. Knowing that they didn't have enough brains to even be able to think of tricking her, Tsubaki struggled to figure out what they were trying to convey. When the thought occurred to her, she tensed. "You're not saying that something's happened to the Shikon No Tama?"

Their heads nodded wildly. "Impossible!"

They both whimpered. Tsubaki fought back an irrational urge to snarl at them. They were only the equivalent of dumb beasts, and it would be phenomenally stupid to get too angry at her transport, when they were hovering high above the nearest tree. "Take me to the Tree of Ages near Kikyo's village—but don't come near the village itself," she ordered. She didn't dare risk flying into a middle of a melee. Without her scout, she was forced to use other methods. "Hurry."

They hurried. Nevertheless, it was nearly evening by the time Tsubaki had her answer. That was partly her fault, though it did her temper no good, to know she had neglected to bring any basic spell-making supplies along. The herbs needed for a divination spell were not rare, but neither were they common.

The Shikon No Tama was gone. Destroyed.

And Kikyo was alive.


	2. Chapter 2: Conversations

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part II: Conversations**

Kikyo rarely lost her temper, but Inuyasha, she was discovering, could try the patience of the Buddha himself. The first two days after the fight with Naraku, Inuyasha had slept most of the time, rousing only when she tended him, watching her silently with pained, puzzled eyes. But in the last day and a half, since he had woken up more or less clear headed, she had found herself ready to shout at him no less than six times by her own count. He was, by turns, impatient, sullen, argumentative, and altogether infuriating. He was currently on his elbows, insisting that he be allowed to get up, even though sweat was streaking his face, his shoulders were trembling with the effort, and he didn't have enough strength to push against her hand pressed lightly against his upper chest.

He lost the battle against gravity, dropping back with a grunt and a string of curses hissed between quick, shallow pants. Sighing, Kikyo again chose not to scold him about his swearing. Instead, she chose to reach for ever-present bucket of water and a clean cloth.

Inuyasha growled as she attempted to wipe down his face, turning his head away. "You don't have to coddle me."

"I'm only trying to keep you comfortable," she snapped. Immediately regretting the edge in her voice, she sighed. Dropping the cloth, she laid the back of her fingers against his cheek. "I know this is hard for you. But your youkai blood still hasn't recovered, and I think you're still bleeding a little inside. I don't want to risk you injuring yourself." Very quietly, almost to herself, she added, "And I want to – coddle you."

He didn't say anything. But, after a moment, he sighed, and reached up to grasp her hand. He moved it away from his face, then twined their fingers together. His thumb slowly rubbed the side of her hand for a moment. He started to let go, but she resisted, tightening her fingers and bringing their joined hands to her face. She pressed a kiss against the back of his hand before releasing it, then gave him a gentle smile as he rolled his head back to look at her. He stared at her a long moment, then snorted. "Keh. Like a miko doesn't have better things to do, than to pamper a beat up hanyo?" The words were flippant, but the voice was not, and he didn't—quite—smile.

They continued to gaze at each other, and might have continued for a while, except that Kaede chose that moment to speak up. "I don't see why we couldn't help him get up and sit outside for awhile – it's a nice day, and I bet he'd feel better for some sunshine."

Kikyo glowered at her sister, who pretended not to notice. "Besides," she continued brightly, "I've finished." She held up an off-white kimono, block-printed with a green leaf pattern."

"What's that supposed to be?" wondered Inuyasha.

"It's for you," she replied, dropping the cloth into her lap and beaming at him.

He gave her a scowl. "I don't need it. My fire rat robes—"

"Are in almost as bad a shape as you are, Inuyasha," said Kikyo, interrupting. "So unless you prefer to go outside in nothing but bandages…"

His response was a mutter, too indistinct to make out words. Then he turned his head to give her a hopeful, wordlessly pleading _look_. She matched him with an annoyed glare, then sighed and looked away, giving Kaede's suggestion serious consideration. "All right," she decided finally, looking back down. "This afternoon – _if_ you promise to do exactly what I tell you, and don't complain when I tell you you're going back inside." He gave her a hurt look, then sighed, nodded, and closed his eyes, pretending to fall asleep. Knowing that his fake sleep would turn real soon enough, Kikyo looked over at her sister.

"I do need to do a few things before this afternoon," she said. "You'll watch him?"

"Oh, sure. If he tries to get up, I'll threaten him with that arrow." She nodded towards the arrow leaning against the wall that was still glowing. A faint growl emanated from the futon. "And if that doesn't work, I'll sit on him."

* * *

Inuyasha had no room his mind for any thoughts except the effort to stand upright and walk. His legs were traitorous, with only Kikyo's support on his left, and one of the village men on the other side keeping him upright. His torso was screaming that movement was a very bad idea, but he ignored that as best he could. Breathing in shallow pants, eyes narrowed to slits and jaws tightly clenched, he forced one leg to move, then the other. He had not previously imagined just how much effort it could take to move a foot merely its own length. He was used to running; this wasn't even a crawl. 

He couldn't quite keep a groan smothered as they eased him down on one of the steps leading up to the shrine. Still panting, he concentrating on not moving, paying no attention to the murmurs between Kikyo and the man. The man left, and Kikyo set down beside him. "I'm still not sure I like this," she said, gently moving his left forearm so that his hand rested on his thigh. "You think I can't tell how much pain you're still in?"

He held his breath a moment, before carefully letting it out in a slow sigh. "Yeah." Just as carefully, he breathed in, testing the limits of his painful back and belly. Turning his head a little, he met her gaze. "Kikyo, could you – let me be alone a little?" As her startled expression started to change, he added quickly, "It's not you. It's just –" he hesitated, searching for words, "I…"

You're used to being alone and outside, and you want to be that for a while," she said.

"Yeah," he agreed. He looked away, then back. "Please?"

She hesitated, then smiled. "For a little while." Standing up, she added, "Just don't try to move."

Inuyasha mentally rolled his eyes at that as she left, annoyingly aware of the fact that any attempt on his part to get up unaided was going to end up in disaster. He wasn't planning on moving.

Closing his eyes, he tried to relax, slowing his breathing, and concentrating on what his other senses were telling him. Especially his nose. For a day and a half, he had been unable to smell anything except burned wood, smoke, his own sweat and blood, and Kikyo's nose-prickling medicines. Now, the breeze, coming from the woods, was bringing him a more familiar and much more complex palette. There was a fox family not too far away, playing in a sunny patch. He winced a little as the lacerated muscles of his left ear tried to swivel the shredded remnants to focus on the faint yips. Moving his attention through the invisible sea of scent messages, he savored the tang of growing green, the sweet scents of flowers and sun-kissed cherries, the acrid scent of a boar, with the accompanying odors that suggested it was rooting at the base of a tree, disturbing roots and soil; and dozens more. Birds and insects left teasing, vagrant ghosts of smells, squirrels and rabbits were numerous and boring, and there was a scent of deer. His mouth watered at the thought of deer: it had been months since he had last brought one down, and that one he had made the mistake of giving to Kikyo, who turned around and gave it to the village, resulting in his not getting even a piece, since at that point he hadn't been about to mingle with an entire village of dirt-smeared humans, certainly not for a piece of over-cooked venison.

Swallowing, he sniffed again, deeply, and then clapped his good hand over his mouth as pain and nausea speared up through his chest, flooding the back of his throat with the taste of bile and blood. Again and again he swallowed, trying not to retch again, mentally begging his youkai blood to come back at least enough to stop the wretched cycle of nausea and pain. It paid no attention to his thoughts, of course. The nausea finally ebbed enough to let his body relax, but it left him exhausted, and mentally cursing. How much longer was he going to be like this? It was worse than any of his human nights, which had always at least had the knowledge that it was only one night, with his strength and health returning with the sun. But this had already lasted for days, and the gods only knew how long it would continue.

And worse, his human night was close. Too close—

Someone gasped. Inuyasha looked up, to see a small girl standing not two lengths from him, her hands clapped over her mouth.

"Korana?"

"I-Inu – ya - sha?"

He tried to force a grin. "Yeah – most of me, anyways. No ears to pet today, though."

Tears glimmered in her dark eyes. "Did the—did the bad demon hurt you, too?"

"Yeah, but Kikyo and I hurt him worse," said Inuyasha. "He'll never hurt anyone again."

"Th-that's what papa s-said," she whispered. "But I – I – he-he looked j-just like you, and you were – were laughing, your-your h-hands were all red, and, and I was so scared!"

Tears flowed down her cheek. Inuyasha swallowed, frantically searching his mind for what to say or do. He didn't want her to cry, but how could he blame her for crying, what could he do, he couldn't pick her up and hug her, which might scare her anyway, he couldn't move, he couldn't think of anything to say! He finally petted the step next to him, from a vague recollection of something he'd seen Kikyo do once. "Hey," he said. "Why don't you, uh, come here, and, ah, tell me about it?"

She stared at him, trembling. "It-it really wasn't you?" she asked.

That hurt. That really hurt. Inuyasha felt both sides of his head twinge as his ears tried to lower themselves. "It wasn't me, Korana." He met her gaze. "I would never hurt a little girl. Ever."

She edged a little closer. "Never?"

"Never. Promise."

The little girl hesitated a moment longer. Then she flung herself against him. Inuyasha had to grind down the yelp of pain between his teeth as she huddled against his side, quivering. Managing somehow to stay upright, Inuyasha petted her head, feeling extremely awkward. What did he know about comforting little girls? Absolutely nothing. All he could think to do was to remain silent, and wait, though after a few moments, he found his hand slipping downward, starting to slowly stroke her back, his fingers curled to prevent his claws from touching her.

It seemed to be the right thing to do. Between sniffles, clinging to his kimono with both hands, she told him her story. She'd been playing with friends when the screams had started. She had stood up and looked around, in time to see 'Inuyasha' bursting out of a collapsing house, laughing. He had spotted her, and before she could move, he had leapt over and grabbed her by the neck. He had laughed at her, then he had slashed through her stomach with his other hand before dropping her. She had screamed and screamed until something had hit her and everything went black. Then she had woken up, and mama was crying, and papa was crying, and so were her three brothers, and then they were hugging her and crying some more and she really didn't understand anything, except she kept waking up at night screaming because he was hurting her and why had he wanted to hurt her!

Inuyasha fought back rage as he listened. It took every bit of concentration he was capable of, to keep his breathing shallow and his body from tensing. He would have given almost anything to have Naraku standing helpless before him, and his own strength back long enough to slice the unspeakable conglomeration of entities into very tiny ribbons. But Naraku was dead, and all he could do was try to keep his anger strangled enough that it didn't twist his body into excruciating knots.

She ran out of words, finally, and shifted position, causing him to wince again. This time, she noticed. Sitting back, she stared up anxiously. "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you?"

"You didn't hurt me—I'm just really sore right now," he assured her. "Just be careful, okay?"

"I promise." Her eyes wandered over his head. Inuyasha wasn't surprised by her next question. "Are your ears going to grow back?"

"I hope so." He wrinkled his nose at her. "After all, if they don't grow back, then you can't pet them, can you?"

She giggled, a sparkle coming back into her eyes. "Can I be the first person to pet them when they grow back?"

"Yeah, sure."

She smiled. For a moment, he thought she was going to fling herself against him in a hug, but she stopped herself, and only wrapped her small arms around his. "Is this okay?" she asked.

"Fine," he assured her. And it was, though there were not a few lines of Kikyo's stitches up and down his arm, and the burns on his shoulder and upper arm hurt fiercely, despite the salve Kikyo had used. But he could at least use his arm, which was rather more than he could do with the rest of his body.

"Korana!" The distant shout broke the silence they had settled into. The little girl snapped her head around.

"Uh-oh, that's mama. I gotta go." She scrambled to her feet and jumped down to the ground. She started to run, then stopped and turned around. "Can I come see you again?"

"Yeah, sure," he mumbled, at bit surprised.

"Okay. Bye. See you!"

Inuyasha watched her race away, then dropped his gaze to his bare knees. It felt so—odd. How could a little girl be so willing to come close to him, even after a lookalike had killed her? Was it because she was, well, Korana? What it because she was just a little girl? He tried to remember if any other little girls had ever looked at him without fear. He couldn't remember any. But then, he had met very few, and no one, without an adult around to sound an alarm and rush the children away. The only children he could remember from his years living with his mother were boys. And they, of course, had all been properly instructed about him.

He felt very lonely.

An arm went gently around his shoulders. Inuyasha tensed a little, surprised, and then a little angry and afraid at having been surprised. But the scent wafting around him was Kikyo's, and he felt his reaction dissipating. Exhaustion swept over him, and he couldn't resist leaning against her.

"I've sent Kaede to fetch someone," she murmured. "I saw Korana visit you."

He sensed that she wanted to say something about that, but he was so tired that all he wanted to do was sleep. He sagged against her, then was ubruptly and painfully alert as her scent shifted. Straightening, he saw that she was looking at something in the sky. Squinting, he tried to see whatever she had detected, but he saw nothing.

"I knew it wouldn't be finished yet," she muttered.

"Hunh?"

"There's a youkai up there, watching. Not much aura – probably a spy for someone else," she explained. "That's why I made that charm for you. So they can't find you."

"Charm?" Inuyasha found himself sagging again, as it was far too much trouble to remain alert.

"Yes, charm, the one that's around your neck," said Kikyo impatiently. "I told you about it earlier, remember? It hides your youkai blood to demonic senses; you'll just look like another human. You told me, remember, how youkai have attacked you for no other reason than that you're hanyo? As long as you're under my care, I'm making sure they can't find you."

"Uh-huh." He was vaguely aware that he really ought to be arguing with her about that, but he couldn't remember why. "Thanks." He sighed, winced a little, then fell into welcome oblivion.

* * *

Kikyo sighed as Inuyasha lost consciousness. She hadn't intended to let him stay out as long as he had, but she hadn't had the heart to interrupt his time with Korana. She had been so pleased to see the girl approach him; the gods knew, if Inuyasha were to have any chance to live among humans, he would have to show that he could be trusted around children, and that they would accept him. That had been one of her worries, the last few days: Korana had been the first real contact between Inuyasha and any of the villagers, and she had been one of Naraku's victims. If she had run away from him… 

She glanced up at the sky again. The youkai was moving away. _You do that,_ she thought fiercely. _There are only humans here. Your kind has hurt Inuyasha enough. I'm not letting you get to him as long as I'm around. He's mine, and I'm not letting him get hurt again._

He was heavy against her arm. Adjusting her position slightly, to better support him, she touched his cheek with her fingers. His skin was warm, but it could be the sun, rather than fever. She settled in to wait for Kaede's return, staying alert to her miko senses. Inuyasha didn't move, and she wondered if that was a sign that he trusted her, at some deep level. She hoped so. She was the one who had failed to trust, four days ago. Inuyasha had not failed.

She did not want to fail him again.


	3. Chapter 3: Visitations

**Tsubaki's Curse, Part III: Visitations**

Tsubaki glowered at her scrying bowl. The latest demon she had recruited for spying was an abysmal failure: if it saw anything like a human, she had not been able to hook into it with her scrying spells. It had sensed no youkai energy in the village, and when it had detected a person with spiritual powers watching it, it had promptly fled. Which said something for the quality of its self-preservation instincts, she supposed. But it had been of no help to her, in her quest to find out exactly what had happened to Kikyo and the Shikon No Tama.

Her hands curled into fists. What she really wanted to do was to saunter into that village, force Kikyo to tell her exactly what had happened, and then cast a curse to destroy that self-righteous prig of a miko, and whoever had destroyed the jewel.

But she didn't quite dare. The reluctance angered her, but she had underestimated Kikyo once before, at a terrible cost. She refused to risk paying such cost a second time.

Setting the bowl of water on the altar, the dark priestess picked up her mirror, willing her illusion to fade. Grimly, she stared into the mirror, at the ugly, terrible scar marring her once-beautiful face. It had been her mistake that had led to this: impatience and over-confidence. She had cast the subtle spell of love and early death on Kikyo shortly after Kikyo's refusal to give her the jewel. Smug in her power and fearlessness, Kikyo hadn't even tried to remove the curse. She, Tsubaki, had been clever enough to even enhance the curse, by whispering thoughts and dreams through the curse-link—thoughts and dreams of loneliness, of separation—of difference. Kikyo had fallen prey to those whispers—how else could she have even considered befriending a disgusting, outcast hanyo, let alone falling in love with one?

But she had lost patience with the speed of the curse, fearing that it might not be fulfilled before Kikyo purified the jewel. From that fear, and with supreme confidence in her own powers, she had sought out the miko and struck. But Kikyo, weakened as her powers were, had still managed to turn the shikigami, and the curse, back upon her. Touching her face, Tsubaki remembered the pain the backlashed spell had caused. It had been meant to kill; had she not instinctively managed to deflect some of the power, it would have killed its caster. As it was, she had been in agony for days, from both the physical pain of the scale-shaped burns to her face, and the pain in the magic realm, where she could not perform with simplest spell without fainting.

Face and magic had healed, of course, but not without scars. She had even managed to gain power, by figuring out how to tap into demonic powers without giving up any of her personal freedom or will, unlike the fools who thought to gain their desires by unthinkingly giving both their bodies and souls to a demonic horde.

Closing her eyes, Tsubaki willed the illusion back. She looked at her restored face with a sense of disgruntlement. She wanted a real restoration, not a pretense of one. She wanted true power, eternal youth, eternal life. She had been robbed of her best chance. She would find another way. But there were other things to tend to, along with her quest. She must find a way to learn what had happened, without warning Kikyo that she was back in the area. She must learn who had destroyed the jewel, and how.

Then she could figure out the appropriate revenge.

* * *

Kikyo watched silently as Mameo—one of the three widows in the village vying for the headman's attention—removed the small tables. From experience, even before this evening, Kikyo knew that Mameo was easily the best of the three at cooking. She wondered idly if the headman was close to deciding to marry one of the three. She knew there was a great deal of subtle pressure from the villagers on him to marry again. He had been resisting it since before she arrived; why, she didn't know.

Yasuo met her gaze and smiled slightly. He was not an unhandsome man, despite his weathered skin and grizzled hair. Kikyo knew there were younger women also flirting with him, and not just because of the prestige and informal power accruing to the wife of the headman. She did not think any of the girls had a chance, however. If Yasuo was looking for something, it was not youth and simple prettiness.

"We will not discuss my marital prospects tonight, miko-sama," he said, eyes twinkling as she twitched a little, uncomfortable at the acuity of his guess. "Despite any curiosity you may have."

Kikyo inclined her head. "It is not my place to question your plans, Yasuo-sama. Though I am aware that many women are concerned as to whom will be the … voice to whisper in your ear."

"True. I valued my wife for many reasons, not the least for her ability to smooth over arguments among the women. She always seemed to know what to say, to me, to anyone, truly… " For a moment, his grief was plain on his face. Kikyo understood then why he had been resisting, for he was still mourning. He picked up his cup of tea and sipped; Kikyo followed suit, dropping her gaze to give him the privacy to regain his composure.

"I regret not having the opportunity to meet your wife," she murmured after a bit.

"She would have liked you, I think," he said, in a normal tone of voice. "I am sure she would have been at your hut every day, asking how the hanyo was doing."

Kikyo set down her cup, and looked back up, sensing that the main reason for her invitation to dinner had just come up. Not that she was surprised. "Inuyasha is healing more quickly than a human," she said, "though, judging from his grumbling, not as quickly as he normally would."

"And when he is healed?"

"We have not—talked about the future."

"Ah." Picking up his cup, he took a sip. "That morning, Kaede came running to my house, terrified. She said you had slipped out before sunrise, on the pretext of gathering herbs, even though you already had plenty. She said you left without your bow and arrows, and that she was certain that something had happened to you—she said she felt it. I was still gathering men to go after you, when the demon came through." He paused for another sip. "When we did find you, you were mortally wounded, and your hanyo was badly burned."

"His name is Inuyasha."

The headman did not answer, his face expressionless, his eyes fixed on her face. Kikyo looked away, uncomfortable. She had not yet told even her sister everything that had happened that bitter morning. She didn't want to admit what had happened, what she had done. But she knew Yasuo well enough to know that he would not let her avoid the topic. And she couldn't—if only for Inuyasha's sake—afford to antagonize the headman. As miko, she depended on the village for most of her supplies, in an informal exchange for her services. Yasuo had stood up for her on several occasions already: he had argued to let her stay, when the villages realized the implication of the Shikon No Tama's existence. He had also smoothed over matters when some parents had been upset over her letting the children meet Inuyasha.

She sighed, giving into the inevitability. "I was taking the Shikon No Tama to Inuyasha. I—I felt it best if no one knew. We…" she hesitated, "…it really goes back to last summer…"

Yasuo listened as Kikyo told her story, studying her face as she spoke. He had been concerned initially when the young, beautiful and itinerant miko had shown up in the village. He had feared that she would be a source of strife between the young men, and between the men and their families. But the young woman had shown no interest in flirting. In fact, her cool demeanor and searching gaze—and her unparalleled prowess with the bow—had managed to overawe and daunt the potential suitors. Many of the young adults had come to the conclusion that Kikyo was an emotionless, cold-hearted woman interested only in her powers.

He knew better, of course—anyone who watched her with the children knew better. But he had never guessed that her heart had thawed, and for a _hanyo._ For a while, he thought her discomfort in telling the story stemmed from the very fact of having fallen for such an inappropriate being. But, as she described the morning's events, he realized that her discomfort stemmed from her sense of failure. She had failed to trust the hanyo; she had tried to kill him.

She came to the end of her story, still looking away. "An interesting tale," he said finally. "I had no idea that a hanyo was even capable of love."

Kikyo looked up, a glint of anger in her eyes. "He is half-human," she pointed out. "Don't judge him for his ears, or who his father was."

He bent his head in acknowledgement. "We are in debt for the lives he returned to us, miko-sama, as we are in debt to you, for your protection and your healing abilities." He smiled faintly. "Many find it difficult to comprehend that a—an outcast like your hanyo could have made such a generous wish. But no one will deny his claim on us for shelter and food while he heals."

Kikyo relaxed slightly; his sharp eyes saw it. Picking up his now-cold mug of tea, he examined the contents, then set it down again. "What would you have done if your plan had worked?"

She blushed, just a little. "I wouldn't need to be a miko anymore. Inuyasha and I would be just normal people."

Could they have become normal? He wondered, but did not say. "You would have married?"

"When he asked me."

He felt vaguely sorry for her. Underneath her mask, Kikyo was a woman, and wanted what women wanted. A pity she had become attached to the hanyo. "But the jewel is gone," he observed. "And Inuyasha is still half-demon. What now?"

She looked away, the blush fading. "I don't know," she whispered. "I don't …"

The visit ended in silence.

* * *

"I have to go. You heard the boy – the village is being overrun."

Inuyasha watched Kikyo as she strapped the bundles of herbs and the extra quiver of arrows to the saddle, leaning against the staff for support. He tried for a mocking answer. "Keh. You just like being a miko."

The jest fell flat as she whirled and glared at him. "Inuyasha--!"

He cringed, and looked away. "Sorry," he mumbled. He heard her sigh. She touched his cheek with a light caress, but he didn't look back.

"I'm sorry, too," she whispered. "I know you'd be with me, if you could. And it's not that I want to go—but I have to. They need me. You do understand, don't you?"

He nodded his head, not trusting his voice. She sighed again, and touched his cheek a second time, before turning back to the horse and mounting. "I should be back tomorrow," Kikyo announced to the gathered villagers. "I'll try to send word if I can't come back."

Inuyasha finally turned his head back when the horse began to gallop. Willing his face not to show what he was really feeling, he watched horse and rider disappear down the dirt road that ascended into the hills.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, Inuyasha," said Kaede, coming up to him. "Kikyo left the barrier up around the hut. And don't worry about those demons – they won't stand a chance."

"I'm not worried," he said shortly. A bit too shortly. Kaede gave him a concerned look.

"Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," he snapped. He turned away, placing his back to the road up which Kikyo had disappeared. "I'm taking a walk."

"You already took one today," she said. "You shouldn't over-do."

"I'll be fine! Just leave me alone a bit, all right?"

No answer came, which suited him. With short, slow steps, he moved along the path that led alongside the village, heading into the valley and the fields. Around him were the odors of cooking food, as women prepared the evening meals. The smells made him both hungry and nauseous, and under other conditions, he would have been muttering curses about how slowly his body was healing. But the gut-clenching unease beneath the physical discomfort was not something to be relieved by words. The shadows were too long for that. Evening was on the verge, driving the farmers from their fields, and deep down, he was afraid. It was the night he had been fearing ever since he woke clear-headed.

The night of the new moon.

The night he turned human.

He stopped as his head spun and his legs quivered. Clinging to the staff, he closed his eyes, breathing carefully, silently begging his body to stop with this stupid weakness. How he hated this! He should be healed by now, able to escape the village and hide. Instead, he was stuck with this painful gut and aching shoulders and useless arm, he was stuck with the knowledge that at least one person was going to learn about his weakness. Kaede was trustworthy enough, but there was no way she'd ever agree not to tell Kikyo, and it wasn't that he didn't trust Kikyo, he just couldn't stand the thought of anyone knowing!

A faint, ringing sound came to his ears. At the same moment, something set every instinct howling in alarm. Stiffening, Inuyasha snapped his head up. He looked around, sniffing for what had alerted him. Walking towards him, staff in hand, surrounded by several of the farmers returning from their fields, was a monk. There was nothing unusual in the appearance or bearing of the monk – he was of average height, mildly handsome in a bald sort of way, and wearing an expression of polite interest as the other men queried him. But Inuyasha felt a growl starting in his throat.

He hobbled forward, with a rising tide of mingled fear and anger. One of the farmers—Koranna's oldest brother—saw him and waved. "Oi, Inuyasha! Come meet the houshi-sama – we've been telling him all about what you and Kikyo did with that demon!"

The hanyo felt a spurt of panic at those words. He stopped, struggling for control. It was only a monk. Even if he did have spiritual powers, the villagers were surely grateful enough to him and Kikyo that they wouldn't let the monk attack him. But the thought didn't reassure the instincts that were screaming inside his head. The wood cracked beneath his fingers as his grip tightened. There was something wrong, something so very wrong—

An errant breeze wafted from the group of men to the hanyo. He started. Among the smells of dirt and human sweat oozed another scent, faint but unmistakable. Inuyasha stared at the group, panting, drinking in the scents, cataloging, knowing which scents went with what. Only one scent was out of place. Only one person it could belong to. Whose appearance didn't match the scent. That one.

"Youkai!"

His thoughts disappeared in a blaze of fear and anger. Snarling, dropping the staff, he leapt towards the monk, hands arched to claw. Two of the men jumped in front of the monk as they realized his goal. Instincts shouting that there was only one enemy, not many, Inuyasha grabbed one man's garment with his right hand and flung him aside. He spun to face the monk, right hand arching again. Hands grabbed his bad arm, and he yelped with pain as he crashed to his knees. Turning to try and free himself, he found himself flattened as at least two more men piled onto him.

The panic spiked even higher. Writhing, kicking and hitting with his good hand, Inuyasha fought free of the humans. Staggering to his feet, gasping for breath, Inuyasha looked around wildly for his foe, then leapt, intent only on taking the youkai down with his claws. Too late, he saw that the monk was not unarmed. He jumped backwards, but the tip of the staff's metal head ripped through his tried to jump aside, but too late. The razor-edged tip of the metal head of the staff slashed through his clothing and skin. The cut was wide but not deep. He staggered a little, recovered, skipped sideways as the monk flourished his staff, and never saw the farmer's hoe.

It hit the half-healed belly wound. Inuyasha gave a small grunt as his breath was forcibly expelled. His body folded up over the swinging implement, as his mind blanked out with pain. In a distant corner, the panic continued to scream, but he was helpless as the humans swarmed over him, twisting his arms behind his back, yelling something about ropes and spears and cursed hanyos. His thoughts scrambled for purchase, but there was nothing except the pain and the panic. It was a sea, drowning him, and he could not get free.

* * *

Yasuo paused to take in the scene. Inuyasha was laying on the ground, unconscious, his arms tightly bound behind him with heavy rope, his legs bound as well. Half a dozen men stood around him, looking defensive and angry; one knelt by Inuyasha's side, empty hands laying palm up on his thighs. Somewhat beyond them was the stranger monk, his staff supported by the crook of his arm, his face wearing a faint smile.

Heaving a faint sigh, the headman walked over to the monk. Folding his hands in front of him, he bowed to the monk. "Please accept our apologies, houshi-sama. The hanyo was badly injured fighting a demon who had killed several villagers; at the request of our miko, we allowed him to stay while his injuries healed. I hope that you took no injuries?"

The monk returned his bow. "I am unharmed, praise the Buddha. I am fortunate that your people were so quick to defend me. They were very skilled, to be able to take down a hanyo so quickly."

"What skill?" A bitter voice held a snarl. Yasuo turned around. Kenichi, Koranna's oldest brother, was still on his knees, but his hands now were clenched. "Inuyasha could still barely walk with a staff for support. I've never fought a man before in my life, and I took him out with a cursed _hoe._" His broad shoulders hunched. "I didn't think! There should have been another way! He saved Koranna, and my cousin, and I—if I've killed him…"

Yasuo winced inside. Kenichi was barely sixteen, but already one of the tallest and strongest men in the village. He was also gentle at heart, and was generally only driven to anger by a threat to his family. He touched the young man's bowed head. "You acted to defend a visitor to our village, Kenichi. Even weakened, the hanyo could have injured or killed an innocent monk, and brought shame to our village. You did the right thing."

Kenichi's hands tightened, but he said nothing. After a moment, Yasuo sighed, and dropped his hand to grip the man's shoulder. "Take the—take Inuyasha back to Kikyo's hut. Tell Kaede what happened, and that she's not to loosen his bonds. Stay with her and help her out."

The big man nodded silently. Shifting position, he easily picked up the limp hanyo and climbed to his feet. He looked at the headman, his face a mask of misery.

"Go on, Kenichi," said Yasuo quietly. "I'll tell your family what happened."

Kenichi nodded and turned away. Yasuo turned back to the monk. "Will you consent to stay the night in the village, houshi-sama?" he asked politely. "My place is not worthy of you, but I would be honored if you were to stay."

The monk smiled slightly, and bowed. "I accept your generous offer, headman. I look forward to hearing more about this hanyo of yours. He must be unusual, to come to the defense of humans."

Yasuo's answering smile hid his thoughts. This was one visit he did not think he would enjoy.


	4. Chapter 4: Little Sister

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part IV: Little Sister  
**

Kaede stirred the contents of the small pot, wrinkling her nose in disgusted resignation. Inuyasha's sensitive nose, injured stomach, and propensity to complain about anything and everything had put a distinct crimp in meals the last week. It had actually been worse the last three days, since Kikyo had carefully begun feeding him solid food—mostly the blandest possible rice porridge. An impatient, hungry Inuyasha had sneaked a bowl of stew two days ago, when Kikyo had been called out to treat a cut just before lunch. The results had been a very sick hanyo, and arrangements for Kikyo and Kaede to have most of their meals with other families. Kaede had grumbled to her sister that Inuyasha could at least have apologized for his behavior, but Kikyo had only smiled and shaken her head.

"Ow!" The yelp of pain from outside the hut startled Kaede. Scrambling to her feet, she dashed to the entrance. Just beyond where the barrier was, Kenichi was standing, arms filled with a limp form, staring at the hut with astonishment. Their voices clashed.

"Kaede, what's with your hut?" "What are you doing – Inuyasha--!" "Why can't I get in?" "I told him he was over-doing—why is he tied up?"

They fell silent a moment, looking at each other. Kenichi opened his mouth, hesitated, and then spoke. "Inuyasha attacked a monk. I – we, several of us tried to stop him. I—I hit him—I-I didn't mean to hit him so hard, but, I mean, he was trying to kill the monk, I-I didn't mean to hurt him, but we had to stop him…"

Kaede blinked, then felt horrified. She nearly asked why, but caught the question behind her teeth in time. "Better bring him inside. I'll do what I can."

"How?" asked Kenshin. "I tried to get to the door, but something bit me, and won't let me through!"

"Oops." The girl thought a moment, then walked outside past the limits of the barrier, pulling a thong with a single white bead off from around her neck. Kikyo had made charms so that Kaede and Inuyasha could get through the barrier without Kikyo opening it, but only two. "Here." She stood up on tip-toe. "Bend down so I can put this around your neck." Moving awkwardly, he did so, and she slung the thong around his head. "Now you can take him inside. Put him on the futon next to the fire-pit, and untie him."

"I can't do that," he replied, looking both anxious and miserable. "Headman's orders. You're not to untie him, either."

"But—" Kaede closed her mouth again, and scowled. "All right, all right. Please take him inside?"

The husky youth nodded, and gingerly took a step forward. Kaede watched Kenichi walk into the hut. He carefully set Inuyasha down on his right side, shifting his body a bit. As he returned outside, Kaede stuck her hand out. Kenichi looked puzzled, then nodded and handed the spell bead back to her. "Will he be all right?" he asked. "Is there – is there anything I can do?"

"I don't know, and I don't think so," she replied. He looked dismayed. "I think you should go back to your family now, Kenichi."

"But what do I tell Korana?" he asked. "I didn't mean to hurt him! What if he dies?"

"I don't think he'll die," she answered firmly. "And as you said, you didn't intend to hurt him. Now go home. Please."

He gave her a last despairing look, then turned and walked away, shoulders slumped. Kaede chewed her lip a moment, feeling sorry for him. But only for a moment. She dashed back into the hut.

She glared at the ropes for a second, then dropped to her knees. Quickly untying the sash holding his kimono closed, she pulled the blood-soaked cloth out of the way. The horizontal gash was starting to clot; a quick examination proved that it was messy but shallow. Above it, the light bandages, which had replaced the heavier ones, were showing signs of blood soaking through. Kaede scrambled to her feet and headed towards the supplies. As she picked up the jar of salve, she heard Inuyasha groan.

"K-Kaede?"

"Yeah?" She picked up the basket of cloth strips, wondering where they were going to get more. The villagers had already contributed all of the old cloth they could, and no trips to a town large enough to have a market for cloth would be made until after the rice harvest.

"The monk – what happened to him?" asked Inuyasha, panting, his face twising in pain. Kaede marched back, set the supplies down, and went down to hands and knees, putting her face inches from his.

"Why?" she demanded. "Why did you attack him?"

He tried to growl, sweat gathering on his face as he glared. "He's youkai. I smelled it." He tried to sit up. "Damn it – get these – ropes – off of me!"

She pushed down on his shoulder. "No," she said, matching his glare with her single eye. "I was told to keep you tied up. Besides, you're bleeding again—Kenichi didn't mean to hit you that hard, but he did. And anyway, why would a youkai disguise itself as monk?"

"Are you – that stupid?" he demanded. His body jerked, and his head fell back to the support. "Damn it!" He swallowed hard, then panted several moments before continuing. "Think, brat! Kikyo – called away, disguised monk shows up, why?"

She stared at him. "You mean, someone wanted Kikyo out of the way? But why…" she trailed off as she thought about the last few days. She knew her sister had been worried about more than just Inuyasha's health. There was a reason for the barrier about the hut, for the disguise charm that Inuyasha was wearing. "A youkai probably can't get through Kikyo's barrier," she said slowly. "If one was powerful enough, why disguise itself?"

"Probably – wants to find out – where the jewel – went," he said. "When it learns – it's gone…"

"Wouldn't it just leave?" she asked uncertainly. But she knew the question was wrong even before Inuyasha gave her a sour look.

"Kikyo – hasn't taught you much – about youkai -- has she, brat?"

She flushed. "All right, so it was a stupid question! But what can we do? If it gets angry and attacks the village…"

"You got to let me go."

"No!" Kaede jumped to her feet. "Inuyasha, you're still badly hurt!" She walked over to the water barrel, and picked up a shallow bucket. "You'd be killed, trying to fight a youkai right now!"

Silence answered her. Kaede started to ladle water into the smaller container.

"I'd rather – go down fighting – than die – tied up – like a damn beast – for slaughter."

Kaede jumped and spun, dropping the bucket, ignoring the water splashing her legs. "Inuyasha! What—what are you talking about?" From her angle, she could only see his back, and his bound limbs.

"I'll probably – be dead – by morning."

"What? _Why?_"

He told her.

* * *

Inuyasha stared blankly straight ahead of him, waiting for Kaede's reaction. There'd been a little gasp, a choked whimper, and then she'd turned around. She was fighting tears, she was in shock, fighting horror and fear. He smelled that. He regretted it. He didn't like tears, he didn't want tears, he didn't know how to handle tears, but damn it all--!

He gritted his teeth as another stab of pain radiated through his belly. He wanted to so badly to let the rage out, to tear the ropes apart, to hunt down that damned demon monk and tear him apart, then go knock the heads of the humans together, who'd dared to do this to him! He couldn't stand this! He wanted out! He wanted free!

He could feel his youkai blood burning in his veins. He didn't want to die, not now, not like this; he couldn't stand being like this! He would give anything to be free of these cursed ropes and free of this damn wound! But his youkai blood was too weak! Ever since he'd woken up five days ago, he'd been aware of it, the weak pulse through his blood, holding the human part of him together while it healed, but so slow! Too slow! And now it was starting to fade, the sun was setting, fading into the night of the new moon, and he was helpless!

A growl vibrated in his throat. Despite his will, he could feel his shoulders tighten with the insane urge to struggle against his bonds. He knew it was insane. But the fear he'd always had at the oncoming of the new moon was no longer a small ripple down his spine, to be ignored or overlain with bravado. It was a hungry beast, growing with every weakening pulse of his youkai blood. He couldn't bear it—"

"It could be just a curious kitsune."

Kaede's voice came to him, providing a distraction. Inuyasha panted, trying to focus on her words. "Not likely," he decided. "Not with – Kikyo gone."

"Couldn't it have sensed her departure, and then gotten the idea to find out what happened, while she was gone?"

"No." He was certain of that. "Monk came – from opposite direction. Too quickly."

"Oh." He heard her pouring water into a container. "Do you really think the demon can be that powerful?" she asked. "I mean, if it lured Kikyo away, that means it didn't want to face her power."

He blinked at that, and agreed.

"Then there might be a chance."

"Hunh?"

Her bare feet padded across the floor. Inuyasha raised his head a little as she came into view. She set down the wooden bucket, then reached out and plucked the cord holding the white bead and pulled it off his head. "Hey!"

She gave him a look as she pulled the cord over her own head. It was—to Inuyasha—an unsettling look, as if she were years older than the ten she counted. Standing up, she walked over to the wall where Kikyo's bow had stood, and picked up the single remaining arrow. It was still glowing softly. Inuyasha eyed it nervously as she walked back towards him. "Kaede…"

The girl walked behind him a knelt. To his surprise, he felt her working on the rope tying his arms. "Kaede…" he tried again.

"I don't want to watch you die," she said. "I watched my sister die. She came back, but still… Inuyasha, you've got to try and live. For her. She needs you."

He blinked at that. "Needs me?"

"Needs you." She unwound the ropes. Inuyasha fought against a groan as his upper arm muscles complained loudly as the tension was released. Kaede moved down to his legs. "You made her realize that she didn't have to just be a miko. I watched her at night, playing with that rouge you gave her. She would smile. She looked so lovely. You gave that to her, Inuyasha."

She pulled the rope from his legs. Getting his good arm under him, Inuyasha forced himself to a seated position. Kaede have him an exasperated look, then picked up the arrow. "You can't get out without the bead," she told him. "So don't even try."

His belly was yelling at him, but he ignored it. "What are you -- going to do?"

"The monk will be eating with the headman. Yasuo-sama will listen to me. This arrow will prove if the monk is a youkai, and if he is…" She shrugged.

Inuyasha gaped at her. "But you could be killed, idiot!"

He smelled the waft of fear from her, and saw her swallow. "I know," she said. "But I'm the closest thing to a miko this village has."

"But you're just a kid!" Inuyasha protested. He pulled his legs in, intending to try and get up, then flinched as she pointed the arrow at him. He didn't really think she'd use that cursed arrow against him, but he couldn't help shrinking away from just the sheer proximity of that razor-edged, glimmering arrowhead.

"I know. But I fought against the demon swarm, didn't I?" she challenged.

"And nearly got yourself killed, stupid!"

He smelled another gust of fear, and saw her tremble, and felt an odd feeling of shame. "Kaede…"

"I'm just as stupid as my sister, okay?"

He wanted to stop her. But as he started to move, his insides decided to rebel. Retching, he crumpled onto his side, He didn't hear the arrow drop, but he did feel the arms going around his shoulders to support him. As the paroxysm eased, he felt her let him down, and then quickly wipe a damp cloth over his lower face. "I'll be back as quick as I can, Inuyasha—just try not to move, okay?"

His body wasn't going to let him do anything else. "Idiot…"

"You already called me that." He felt her move away; heard the scrape as she picked up the arrow. "I promise I'll be back, ani-chan – promise!"

He heard her flee the hut. Only then it hit him.

She called him what?

Big brother?

He stared blankly across the room, quite astounded. Someone called him 'big brother'? A human?

Kaede thought of him … as a brother?

Which would make her … a little sister?

He mouthed the word, then snorted to himself. Keh! Why would he want to be anyone's brother? And anyway, what difference did it make, when he almost certainly would not be alive to see the sun come up?

Inuyasha sighed, eyes drooping, as exhaustion claimed him. He vaguely wished that he knew if prayer really did any good. He wanted to girl to live. Even if she was a brat.

A fugitive thought chased through his mind as slumber claimed him, that it might be nice to have a sister…

Keh.


	5. Chapter 5: The Monk

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part V: The Monk**

Kaede paused outside the hut to take a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. She couldn't match her sister's gifts, but she could match her sister's courage, she reminded herself. She could do this, and would. Somebody had to prove that Inuyasha was right, and she was the only one who could.

She set off at fast walk, resisting the temptation to run. No one was going to pay attention to an out-of-breath girl. She had to be calm, focused. Like Kikyo. She had to make sure they saw a potential miko, not someone's kid sister.

The dusty ground between the houses was empty, the shadows long as the sun edged towards the horizon. Kaede fixed her eyes on the headman's large house, trying to ignore the vagrant odors teasing her nose. She had no time for hunger.

The headman's house was the only one in the village boasting a porch, and the only one with a sliding door across the entrance. Knocking on the doorframe, Kaede forced herself to wait patiently. Presently, the door slid open. Satsuki—one of the three widows—peered down at her. "Kaede-chan, why are you here?" she asked with surprise. "Wasn't Mameo going to feed you tonight—or, no—is it about the hanyo? He's not worse, is he?"

"Yes, he's worse, but that's not why I'm here. Please, Satsuki obaa-san, please tell Yasuo-sama that it's very important that I speak with him."

"He's eating with the visiting monk, Kaede-chan. Can't it wait until later?"

"No, obaa-san." Kaede stood as straight as she could, meeting the older eyes firmly. "I think the village is in danger."

The woman studied her for a long moment, her eyes momentarily moving to the arrow she held. "Why the arrow?"

"It's a special arrow," said Kaede. "It will prove if I'm right or wrong."

Satsuki nodded after a long moment. "I will inform the headman."

Kaede gave her a slight bow. "Thank-you, obaa-san."

The door slid shut, and Kaede gave a small sigh of relief, thanking Kami that Satsuki had been in charge this evening. Satsuki was the preferred candidate for marrying the headman of the older women of the village. She listened to everyone, including the children, and her words, when she spoke, were generally considered wise. Kaede had also successfully treated her youngest for frostbite and a subsequent fever the winter before, when Kikyo had been gone, tracking down a demon raiding the village. Mameo would have simply told her to come back later. As for Leiko…

The door slid back a second time. "Kaede." The headman's voice was clipped. "What is the problem?"

He was frowning, but did not look annoyed. "Inuyasha says that the monk is a demon in disguise," she replied promptly. "I know he was stupid to attack like he did, but I believe him." She held up the arrow. "If he's youkai, the monk won't be able to touch this."

The headman's forehead furrowed with worry. "If you're wrong, Kaede-chan," he said softly, "we'll have insulted our guest."

Kaede swallowed. "I know. But if Inuyasha's right – the monk appeared almost immediately after Kikyo left…"

His eyes widened, then narrowed as he absorbed the implication. "Understood." He considered a moment longer, lips thinned. "Satsuki-san?"

The woman behind his shoulder murmured an acknowledgment. "Alert the tower watch. Quietly. Have one of them run to each hut and tell the men to arm themselves, but not to leave their huts unless the alarm is raised."

"Yes."

He turned his attention back to Kaede, as Satsuki turned and slipped silently away, heading towards the back entrance. His expression was bleak. "I don't know to hope if you're right or wrong, Kaede. The monk says he's from the local capital. If the daimyo heard that we attacked an innocent monk on the word of a half-demon…"

"Inuyasha's not wrong," she said firmly.

Yasuo merely sighed. "You're old for your years, little one—maybe because you're Kikyo's sister—that's why I trust your word. I just—" he cut off what he was going to say, shaking his head, and closing his eyes for a long moment. Then he turned on his heel. "Let's go."

* * *

Yasuo walked towards the side room, which, with the screens pulled back, looked out over the river and irrigated fields. His thoughts were grim, but as he entered the room, he plastered a smile on his face; one, he hoped, that did not look as fake as the slight smile on the monk's face looked to him.

He bowed politely. "My pardon, Kurotei-sama, for the interruption. Our miko-in-training, Kaede-san, claims that she has some very important information that needs to be shared with you. If you will permit?"

The monk blinked, his smile not changing for at least a heartbeat. "It is inopportune, is it not?" he queried, with a slight frown. "Nevertheless," he waved his hand, "I suppose that if you are willing to listen to a mere girl child, I must also listen."

Yasuo bowed again, as much to hide his anger, as to remain polite. "Kaede-san?" he called, trying to keep an unobtrusive eye on the monk. "If you will join us?"

Kaede stepped into the room, arrow at her side. Yasuo moved sideways to give her room. "Houshi-sama," she said with a bow, "please forgive the intrusion of my lowly presence. I am Kaede, sister to the miko-sama, Kikyo, and am in training to become a miko myself."

Yasuo saw the monk's eyes shift to the arrow she held, then back to her face. His faint smile had returned to his face, but the headman felt that his eyes looked cold. "You are an impertinent girl, even for a girl with ambition to become a miko," the monk replied coolly. "Nevertheless, out of respect for my host, I accept this interruption. What is it you wish to say to me?"

Kaede bowed again, her face showing no reaction to his slighting words. Moments passed. Yasuo kept most of his attention on the seated monk, though wondering why Kaede was waiting to speak. The monk started to look annoyed. "Speak up, girl," he said. "I wish to finish my dinner, and you are keeping me from it."

"You are not human." Kaede's words were flat. "I can't tell what you are, but Inuyasha is right. You're not human."

The monk started. For a moment, shock flashed across his face, then anger. "How dare you accuse me, girl?" he demanded. He turned to glare at Yasuo. "Is this some kind of joke, headman?"

"No." Yasuo met the black, furious gaze, shifting his weight forward. "Inuyasha may act without thinking, and Kaede is young, but they have proven themselves. If they are wrong, then I will humble myself before you and beg your forgiveness. But first, you must prove them wrong."

The monk's hands clenched. "And just how do you intend I prove that?"

"You touch this." Kaede walked forward, and held out the arrow, point first. "If you're human, this won't harm you."

The monk started to reach out, then jerked his hand back. "I have no need to prove myself to the likes of you," he snarled, getting to his feet. "How dare you insult me!"

Yasuo took a step forward. "A quarter-turn of the moon ago, a merge-demon took the shape of both Inuyasha and our miko," he said calmly, though he could feel his heart starting to race. "You will understand our wariness, when Inuyasha smells the scent of youkai surrounding you."

The monk stepped backward. "You take the word of a hanyo beast over a human?"

"I take the word of a young man who saved the lives of my villagers," replied Yasuo. "And Kaede's request is simple – unless you are not what you seem."

The monk glared at him, hands fisted. Then, after a moment, he straightened. "I will not stay here to be insulted, headman. Be sure that I will tell the daimyo of your insanity. Doubtless, he will have you replaced." He turned to reach for his staff leaning against the wall. He took hold of it, and whirled, turning away from Yasuo, his left hand joining the other on the staff. Yasuo leapt, realizing in horror that the monk's was going to attack Kaede, and that he could not stop it. But even as the frantic thought flashed through his mind, he saw a blur of motion. Kaede was also leaping, in a flat arc that took her across the low table, both hands above her head clenching the arrow. The staff slammed into her, but too late and too little. With a cry, Kaede brought the arrow down through the monk's robe and into his leg.

The monk shrieked and staggered. He started to raise his staff, then froze. Yasuo slammed into him. He heard a small popping sound, and then a flash of light blinded him. His momentum took him to the floor and into the flimsy wall screen. He yelped in pain as his head cracked against a wood support. He blanked out, and then opened his eyes, to realize that he was lying in a tangled pile of paper and wood.

"Ow." Turning his head, he saw Kaede sitting up, her kimono liberally daubed with the remnants of the monk's dinner. She was holding her stomach and grimacing.

"Are you all right, Kaede-chan?" he asked, sitting up on one elbow, wincing himself as his head, his shoulder, and his back all started complaining.

"I-I think so," she said, sounding a bit winded. "Are you okay?"

He grunted. "As good as a grown man who should know better than to jump around like a twelve year old can be," he said, forcing himself to a seated position. He looked down at the veritable froth of paper fragments. "What is all this paper?"

"A – I think it's a kind of, a kind of paper shikigami," Kaede replied. "a sort of a, uh, spirit puppet. Not a youkai – not a real one, anyway."

"Puppet?"

She nodded. Yasuo considered the implications, and his lips thinned. "Which means there was someone behind this thing." Kaede nodded a second time, looking a little scared.

Carefully, he touched his head, where he had slammed into the wall, wincing a little, but his thoughts reaching ahead. "If the person who sent the shikigami is also the one who sent the demons, they'll want to make their move before Kikyo can get back," he concluded. "And Inuyasha's in no shape to fight."

"N-no." Her voice cracked. Yasuo gave her a sharp look. She was looking away, one fist pressed to her mouth. Staggering to his feet, Yasuo walked over to her, then went down on his knees. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She turned towards him, tears glimmering on her eyelashes. He saw no more than that, before she buried her face against his haori. But as he held her in a gentle embrace, he guessed, before she told him, the cause of her tears.


	6. Chapter 6: The Night Without Moon

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part VI: The Night With No Moon**

"No!"

Tsubaki flinched backwards as the scroll representing her link to the shikigami burst into black flames. Pain slammed into her thigh as the broken spells backlashed, and she cried out again as she crumpled onto her side, clutching her leg. For long time, she could only shiver as the ashes sifted down to dust her dark robes.

Finally, she managed to push herself up. Disbelieving, she stared at the smoldering altar. "How?" she demanded aloud. "How could a brat and a dirt-encrusted farmer destroy my shikigami? How!" Her hands clenched into fists. "How dare they?" she spat, as her anger rose. "I'll tear their village down around their ears! How dare they destroy my creation! How could they have detected it—it was perfect! Perfect! Not even Kikyo—"

The mention of her enemy stopped her tirade cold. Closing her eyes, the dark priestess exerted herself to control her anger. Breathing deeply, she reminded herself once again of the day when her ill-considered attack had backfired. Willing herself to calmness, she pulled back from the rage.

Her face relaxing back into its cool, beautiful mask, Tsubaki stood. Two quick spells, muttered under her breath, stopped the low fire in the altar and dissipated the ash. Walking to the side of the room opposite of the shelves, she slid back the screen and stepped into her living quarters. Uncovering the embers in the fire-pit, she built the flame back up, and then set a pot of water over it to simmer. While the water heated, she tidied the room, doing the little chores that could not be done by magic, save by the use of far too much power, which was much better turned to other uses. Stripping down her simple, un-dyed, under kimono, Tsubaki brewed a cup of her favorite tea, then set down cross-legged to think.

Setting aside the question of the shikigami's destruction, the dark priestess concentrated on what she had learned. Three of the farmers working the fields had been quick to abandon their work when the 'monk' called to them, asking if there was an inn in the village. They had been quick to answer that he did not need to worry about a place to stay, that the headman always welcomed visitors to his home. It had taken little effort to encourage them to talk about the events of the quarter-moon turn previous. The youngest of the trio had been particularly voluble, describing how 'Inuyasha' had brought his sister and cousin and others back to life, including the miko, nearly at the cost of his own existence. "Don't know how he's still alive," the young man had said. "Though they say hanyos are tough beasts to kill—not that he's a beast, please your reverence. I saw that youkai claw in him before it disappeared—as wide as my hand it was, where it came out his back, and wider still where it went in his belly. Not to count the burns, or the cuts and bites from what Kikyo said was a demon swarm. Practically the entire front of his scalp chewed off, including his dog-ears. Little sister loved those dog-ears; prays every night that they'll grow back. He's promised to let her pet them if they do…"

What they hadn't told 'him' was who had destroyed the Shikon no Tama. Tsubaki sipped her tea, thinking. Reluctantly, she concluded that the being responsible for its loss was none other than the hanyo itself. Where else could a mere hanyo have gotten the power to bring people back to life? Kikyo had been dead, a mere villager would have even less power than a hanyo, and the last time she had sensed the presence of the jewel, it had been under the hanyo's body.

So. The hanyo was responsible for her loss. It had wasted the jewel's enormous power on a handful of insignificant villagers. She might never understand the how, let alone understand why a being, outcast on all sides, would choose to use the Shikon No Tama for others and not for itself. But that really didn't matter. What mattered was that she now had her target.

A hanyo. Her lip curled in disgust. The only thing that really made it a worthwhile target, besides the fact that it deserved punishment for its actions, was that destroying it would also be the first step in revenge against Kikyo. It meant that she would have to reveal herself to Kikyo sooner, rather than later, in order to fully savor the two-for-one revenge, but such was fate.

She drained the last of her tea, and stood up. The sun was nearly gone, and she had a long night ahead of her. A night with no moon; a night of deepest darkness, given the clouds gathering just below the western horizon. An excellent night for such as she.

Tsubaki smiled.

* * *

He refused to die lying down. He refused to face his human night cowering on a futon. Inuyasha sat cross-legged in the corner of the hut; arms across his chest, with the left supported by his right, and watched the last red rays filtering through the bars on the high window. Panting shallowly against the burning in the middle of his torso, the hanyo waited for night. 

The bamboo curtain rattled. Moving only his eyes, he say Kaede enter the hut. "Inuyasha?" she queried, not immediately seeing him as she toed off her sandals. "Inuyasha!" she exclaimed as she spotted him. "What are you doing in the corner?"

He gave her the shortest possible answer, in a voice barely above a whisper. "Waiting."

"Waiting?" she repeated. "For what?"

"Night."

"What for? Oh, I know you told me about the change, but you ought to be lying down, conserving your strength!"

He ignored her, returning his gaze to the dying light. He heard her sigh in exasperation, then step up onto the floor. "You were half right," she said after a few moments, as she moved the stinking pot of scorched rice porridge off the fire. "About the monk."

His ears would have tilted in her direction. "Half?"

"He wasn't human. He also wasn't youkai."

Inuyasha blinked. "The smell…"

He heard her get up and walk over to the storage area. "You'll have to ask Kikyo about that, but it turned out to be a shikigami—well, at least, that's what I think it was. It turned into bits of paper when I pierced it with the arrow."

He blinked again, remembering how quickly the monk had moved to counter his attack. "How did you?"

She appeared in his view, holding the pole of an oil lamp. "I'm just a kid, remember?" she said, as she set up the lamp. "I don't think whoever was controlling it thought I would attack."

Inuyasha thought about that. It was annoying to think that a little girl had succeeded where he had failed. Embarrassing, even. But he felt something else, too. He wasn't sure what it was, but—

His world dropped out from under him. A choked gasp escaped him as dizziness swirled his vision. While he was distracted, the sun had set. Night had begun.

Change. The world grew muffled; it had already become odorless. Eyes clenched tight against the change, he knew from experience how he would be left almost blind in the dark, instead of able to see the slightest variation of gray. Claws and fangs withdrew, uncomfortable, yet no different than usual. But he couldn't stop the whimper as half-healed skin on his skull split and bled as muscle and cartilage and bone moved and reshaped themselves.

The pain of his burns deepened. But it was nothing compared to the pain of the unhealed wound through his torso as the last of his youkai power vanished. Between one moment and the next, the pain seared, almost is if someone had thrust the claw back in. The diagonal blow from hoe burned afresh, spreading outward. He tried to fight the pain, tried to keep the screams behind his lips. But human panic shredded his thoughts and will. He was dying! He didn't want to die! Not now, not when he finally had a chance to not be alone; to have someone who cared for him, loved him, whom he could love back, care for, and protect—

A spasm sent him gagging, which triggered a fresh explosion of pain. He cried out, voice strangling as his throat muscles locked. He fought to breathe, the clawless fingers of his right hand digging deep into the muscles of his bad arm, but every muscle in his body seemed to be freezing, turning him into a statue that knew nothing but pain.

"Inuyasha!" Small hands pressed hard against the sides of his face. "Inuyasha, listen to me. Don't fight it. Don't be stone. Be water. Let it flow, let it take you." Fingers started to massage his temples. "You can do it, Inuyasha. I know you can. Just let it flow."

Her fingers somehow got through the nightmare. He tried to concentrate on her words, on her touch. He somehow managed to get a breath through his locked throat. "That's it," she encouraged him. "Try to relax your throat. Breathe with me. Breathe out. Breathe in." Her fingers moved with her voice, imparting a slow rhythm. He tried to follow her words, follow her fingers. Slowly, he found his neck and throat muscles relaxing, enough at least to let air in and out. He tried not to think, not to feel, anything but the act of breathing, the feel of air through his raw throat, and the soothing touch of her fingers.

After some unknown time, she sighed. "You scared me, Inuyasha. I know you told me you were going to turn human, but is it always this bad?"

"Youkai blood—blocks pain," he managed to tell her.

"Oh." Her voice was very small. Her fingers stopped moving. "Inuyasha…"

He managed to open his eyes. The light was behind her, from two sides, but he could see well enough to detect the fear in her expression. "I'm scared," she told him. "I can re-bandage your wound—I was supposed to anyway—b-but if you're bleeding inside, th-there's nothing I can do, and—and I-I don't want you to die."

Tears spangled in the fire- and lamp-light. He wanted to shrug off his fear. He wanted to be able to ignore her tears, wanted to pretend he didn't care. But he couldn't. He was nothing but human at this night, with no youkai blood to suppress the intensity of feelings as well as pain. He couldn't deny the fondness for the girl that had somehow crept into his heart, any more than he could deny any other emotion.

"Kaede," he managed to whisper. Persuading his fingers to release their grip on his bad arm, Inuyasha raised his hand, wavering, to her face. "I—I'm afraid—too," he admitted. "I—I don't—want to die. I—but I—don't think—I can make it."

"But you've got to try!" She grabbed his hand with both of hers. "Please, Inuyasha, f-for Kikyo, for me—you've got to try!"

He returned her grasp with what little strength he had. "I'll – try." His eyes slid shut as he felt the first faint whisper of a beckoning darkness. "Little sister…"

* * *

Thunder rumbled as Kaede dropped her thoroughly soiled kimono into the tub of water along with the bloodied bandages. The bottom of the bamboo curtain cracked against the entrance as a gust of wind caught it. From behind her came a muffled yelp. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Inuyasha straining to sit away from the wall, eyes wide and staring. "It's just the wind, Inuyasha," she said, pulling on her older kimono that she'd almost outgrown. "I'll tie down the curtain and put up the screen for the firepit." 

He made an obvious effort to settle his shoulders back against the wall. "Won't stop - enemy," he muttered.

"No, but it will protect the fire," she said as she went to fasten the curtain. She thought she heard a growl, but there was no other response. The wind slapped the curtain about as she reached for the wooden bar at the bottom; the gust was not only cold; it smelled of rain. Lightning flickered as she dragged the screen into place. Adding a log to the fire, she extinguished and took down the oil lamp she'd used while attempting to re-dress Inuyasha's wound. Taking two covers from the stack next to the rolls of futons, she walked back to the corner where Inuyasha was sitting.

"Here," she said, shaking it out. "Lean forward. You need to stay warm."

He shifted his head just enough to eye her. With a bitten off groan, he complied with her request. Quickly, she unfolded the material and draped it over his back. Bringing it over his shoulders, she reached out and carefully pulled his long hair free, then brought it over his left shoulder. Helping him ease back against the wall, she tugged at the material until it covered most of his chest and legs, leaving his right arm free.

She wasn't surprised when he grumbled. "If I—trip—when I—get up—it's—your—fault."

"Hah," she scoffed, kneeling beside him. "If you try to get up before your powers come back, it's your fault." A thought occurred to her. "Will the clouds interfere? I mean, if the sunrise can't be seen…"

"Doesn't—matter." He gasped a little, grimacing, his free hand resting on his thigh clenching into a fist. Fresh sweat trickled down his face, spangled in the firelight. Hesitantly, Kaede reached out and placed her hand on top of his. It twitched, then opened up and grasped her fingers. He let out a groaning sigh as the spasm passed.

Silence fell between them, broken by another roll of thunder.

"Why?"

Kaede startled a little. "Why what, Inuyasha?"

"Big brother?"

"Oh." Kaede blushed a little, and looked away. "I've—I've always wanted a big brother. Kikyo says mama had three boy babies between her and me, but they all died before they were one. After me, mama died while trying to give birth to another baby boy. I—I've just always wanted one—and you—well, you did save my life, and if you stay with Kikyo, it's almost like a big brother." She hesitated. "Do you–do you have any sisters or brothers?"

His hand tightened. "Half brother," he replied shortly. "Full youkai. Hates me."

"Oh, Inuyasha!"

"Keh. Feeling's mutual."

Kaede winced. She couldn't imagine hating a sibling. Hate Kikyo? Impossible. "What about—your parents?"

"Dead."

"Family?"

"None."

"Friends?"

He snorted. "Who makes friends—with a hanyo?"

"What about us?" she asked. "Kikyo made friends with you, didn't she? And Korana? And I bet Yasuo and Kenichi would be friends, too, if they had a chance."

There was a long pause before he replied. "Stupid."

That annoyed her. "It's not stupid! Why is it stupid!"

"Won't work. Tried."

"And when was the last time you tried?"

The silence was so long that Kaede began to be afraid. "Could we—talk about—something else?" he asked, a clear edge of pain in his voice.

Kaede realized that talking about a painful topic was perhaps not the best way to pass time. "Sorry," she said, contrite. "What do you want to talk about?"

This response was immediate. "Kikyo."

"What about?"

"Everything."

She should have known. Kaede shifted her position and took a fresh hold on his hand, thinking. "Okay. Ah, well, she thinks cooking is boring and likes looking for new plants and figuring out if they're useful. One time…"

* * *

The night deepened. The storm front passed over, trailing a steady, thrumming rain. Kaede talked until her throat was dry, remembered that she hadn't eaten, and that Satsuki had given her a small basket of food before she had left the headman's house. Receiving only a faint 'keh' to her hesitant query, she left his side long enough to bolt down a rice ball and several fish rolls, washing it down with a long drink. Returning, she launched into yet another story. 

But the food, and the rain, and her fatigue, were soporific. She found herself yawning, forgetting where she was in her story and stumbling over her words. Her eyes became heavier, and eventually—when, she never knew—slid completely shut.

The nightmare was extraordinarily vivid. She jumped to her feet as something shattered the entrance to the hut. A huge youkai, vaguely bearlike, with three eyes and pale fur, flicked a paw and sent her crashing into the opposite wall. Bouncing off that onto the floor, she struggled to her hands and knees. Looking up, she froze in horror as she saw Inuyasha staggering to his feet in a futile effort to confront the youkai. The demon glanced at her, smirked, then lashed out with a paw filled with a set of long, wicked claws. The thing that landed on the floor was no longer alive, a broken and bloody rag. Screaming in horror and denial, Kaede lurched to her feet and ran towards the youkai. It used another negligent swipe with the back of its paw to send her flying again. Pain slammed into her head, and she crumpled. Whimpering, she struggled to stay awake, but the darkness pulled her down. She had only a final glimpse of the demon lowering its head towards Inuyasha's shattered body, jaws opening to reveal their full contents of jagged teeth.

She knew nothing more until sunlight spilled over her face, and anxious voices roused her. Sitting up, holding her aching head, she took in first the jagged gap where the entrance had once been. Then she looked around. Blood painted the interior of the hut. Of Inuyasha, there was no sign.

Kaede remembered her nightmare.

She began to scream.


	7. Chapter 7: Remembrance

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part VII: Remembrance**

Kikyo refrained from urging the horse to go faster. The beast was still tired from last night's hard gallop, and she did not want to risk running over anyone who might be out even this early.

But it took considerable will not to urge the animal on. Her dreams had been full of blood and death, and she had woken up with an irresistible need to get home as quickly as possible. She had barely managed to avoid being rude to her hosts, declining their offer of breakfast. It had been difficult standing still and accepting the villagers' thanks, as something within her shrieked that it was necessary to get home.

Something was dreadfully wrong. She had known it since yesterday evening, when she had ridden into the village to find them cowering as a small demon swarm clawed at their huts. The swarm had started fleeing even before she raised her bow. Which spoke of excellent self-preservation skills, but which was distinctly odd. When she looked around, the only damage she saw were a few dead chickens and one dead dog, plus shredded leaves and bark, and ineffectual claw markings on the huts themselves. Yet when she queried the villagers, one and all, their stories told of huge, terrifying demons, taunting them, driving them into the huts and threatening to burn everything down, laughing about having 'roasted human' for their supper.

It felt like a trap. She had wanted to return home immediately. But the sun had been setting, and she had run the horse into lathered exhaustion in her haste to rescue the villagers. Nor did she dare go back on her own, on a night with no moon and a brewing storm, where her limited vision would curtail her ability to defend herself with arrows. Uneasy and apprehensive, she had stayed the night, spending several hours strengthening the charms against minor demons that hung in most of the houses, until the expenditure of her power had tired her enough to sleep.

The huts of the village appeared in the distance. Again resisting the urge to gallop the rest of the way, Kikyo instead slowed the horse to a trot.

A shout from the watchtower was the first sign she'd been noticed. People appeared from around the huts, then began to stream towards her. That warned her that her premonition was not wrong, for most of the men in the lead should have already been in the fields working.

Kenichi was in the lead by the time they came up to her. His eyes were red, as if he had been crying. "Kikyo-sama!" Panting, he staggered a little as he reached the horse and grabbed the reins, causing the beast to shy. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"What are you talking about?" she demanded. "What happened? Where's Kaede? Is she all right?"

"She'll be fine," said Yasuo, his baritone voice carrying over the crowd. "She's upset, but she'll be okay." She looked at him. Even at a distance of some lengths, he looked exhausted and defeated. "It's Inuyasha. According to Kaede, a demon got through your barrier. It just knocked her aside, but Inuyasha—" he looked aside.

She felt her face blanch. Without thinking, she kicked the horse in the ribs. It squealed and lunged forward, scattering the villagers. Barely keeping it in control, she urged the horse through the village and towards her hut. Jerking back on the reins to stop it, she vaulted off its back and ran through the shattered entrance. Two steps in, and she stopped, stunned.

Blood was everywhere. The floor, the walls, the chest and the shelves and the screens; even the rafters. A torn kimono that she recognized as the one she had been using for Inuyasha's futon lay crumpled in one corner. In front of it, was a scrap of off-white cloth, with a bit of green leaf printed on it. The edge of the cloth was dyed the same dull red as the rest of the room.

Kikyo fell to her knees. She didn't want to believe. She had left Inuyasha safe behind her best barrier, behind the charm that hid his youkai aura. No demon should have been able to find him, or finding him, been able to break her barrier.

But one had. And because she had not been there to defend him, to use her miko powers and her arrows, because the injuries she had helped cause had been too severe for him to recover in a mere moon-quarter, Inuyasha had been helpless.

He was dead. And it was her fault…

* * *

Assigning one man to take care of Kikyo's horse, Yasuo quietly shooed the rest of the villagers away from the miko's hut. Taking himself a short distance away, so that he could not see into the hut, Yasuo looked up the hill towards the shrine. In the week since the battle, the women had scrubbed clean the floorboards, while the men had replaced the broken railings. Kikyo had managed to find the time to spiritually cleanse the shrine and its environs of the lingering taint of blood and jyaki. He had thought the next real use of the shrine would come if Tameo's baby lived to be named. But instead— 

What was appropriate to mark the death of the hanyo? The villagers owed him too much to not show some form of respect for his death. But were human customs appropriate for a hanyo? He was half human, but he was also half youkai—did the higher forms of youkai have death rituals? That was a question he'd never considered before—well, who would? With youkai and humans almost never mixing, except to fight each other. But he had to think on it now. They owed Inuyasha's spirit gratitude and respect, and rituals that would appease it, if it wasn't to become a yurei, a wandering ghost.

A footstep behind him caused him to turn. Satsuki flicked a glance at the damaged hut. "Poor woman," she murmured. "She worked so hard to keep him alive." He nodded. "I sent Kaede with Tameo, Jiro and the little ones to go look for wild berries along the edge of the woods. I thought that would make would make a good offering to his spirit."

"A good thought." He gave her a fuller regard, examining her face. She was tall for a woman, though the years and birth of seven children, four of whom had survived childhood, were wearing on her frame and her face. Her round face was creased from care and the sun, yet was also marked by much smiling. She might have neither the cooking skills or looks of her two rivals, but she had wisdom, and she was comfortable to be with. "As usual, my dear Satsuki ."

She looked startled, before giving him a querying gaze. He smiled wryly. "I know this is neither the time nor place, Satsuki -sama. But when it is the time…" He held his hand out.

She slipped her hand on top of his, smiling a little. "You will not need to ask, if anyone sees us."

"I will ask, anyway—your sons would take it amiss if I did not."

"Do not let them haggle. I am not worth much."

"I will not need to haggle."

"If they try, threaten them with the fire tongs. It always works for me."

Yasuo smiled and shook his head, squeezing her hand. Silence fell around them, and they turned slightly to watch the miko's hut, standing shoulder to shoulder. Waiting to offer the only thing they could give to a grieving young woman.

* * *

The scent brought him onto his feet before his mind was awake. _Youkai!_ Fingers arched, ready to claw, he spun in a circle, searching for his enemy, a growl rumbling through his throat. A human woman was kneeling about four lengths from him. He ignored her as he continued his circle, knowing that she wasn't the enemy he was searching for. 

"You're a rude little puppy, aren't you?"

He started, and whipped back to face the woman. As he did so, his brain finally woke up enough to register two points simultaneously.

He was in a room with a totally unknown woman.

And he was utterly, completely naked.

He dropped to the floor, grabbing the cloth before him and pulling it to his waist, as his face turned red. The woman gave a short, lilting laugh. "So the puppy knows at least a little bit about proper behavior, does it? I wonder how much instruction it would take make it fit for human company?"

Inuyasha stared at her, ears flattening as anger started to simmer in his blood. Who was this woman? He sniffed, and realized that her scent was mortal, yet it was also interlaced with the distinct signature of a youkai—the same youkai scent he had detected from the monk, that had filled his wakening nose. A soft growl rumbled in his throat. "Who and what the fuck are you, bitch?" he demanded. "Why did you send that monk shiki—shiki-thing to the village? What have you done with Kaede?"

She raised an eyebrow in disdain. "Well, who knew the puppy could talk?" she said. "A pity it doesn't know how to properly address its betters. Perhaps it needs to learn how to be silent."

Raising a hand, she snapped her fingers. Inuyasha jerked as something in his throat snapped. Pain flared, and he cried out—in silence. Grabbing his throat, he tried to growl, but nothing happened. He stared, stunned, at the woman.

She smirked.

Red hazed his vision. Without thought, Inuyasha launched himself, hands outstretched, ready to claw. Half a length from the woman, he bounced off a barrier. Crashing to the ground, he rolled onto all fours, ready to lunge again. But something exploded in his midriff, and he discovered his wound was not yet fully healed, despite the return of his youkai blood. He crumpled, mouth open in a silent scream. He fell into darkness, laughter taunting his ears.

* * *

Kikyo didn't know how long she was on her knees. All that she could see was the blood. All that she could feel was a scream of pain and despair, a dagger plunging into her soul without end. How had it come to this? Why had it come this? After he had saved her, after she had tried to save him, why did this happen? How had they found him? How had they gotten through her barrier? 

Her thoughts circled endlessly, with no answers to the questions. She finally pushed herself to her feet, stumbling onto the main floor of the hut, not even thinking to remove her sandals. Going back to her knees, she picked up the scrap of white-and-green, blood-stained cloth with trembling fingers. Was this all she had of him? A piece of the kimono Kaede had sewn for him? No, there was the other—how he had grumbled at being forced to wear the rough-woven cotton.

She got back to her feet and walked over to the baskets set against a wall. She knelt in front of the one she thought contained the remnants of the fire-rat robes. Lifting off the lid, she found on top of the red cloth a small, lidded box she didn't recognize. She started to remove that box, then paused as she felt her fingers tingle. There was something in the box, something that radiated power. Vaguely puzzled, Kikyo thumbed the lid off. Inside were scraps of paper, with fragments of writing and burnt edges. She touched one of the pieces of paper, and stiffened.

The fading power infused in the paper wasn't youkai.

It was spirit power, but turned to darkness, not the light.

Putting the lid back on, Kikyo removed the box and put it on the floor. A faint glint caught her eye; reaching behind the basket, she drew back an arrow. No, not an arrow, she realized as it pulsed under her touch—_the_ arrow—the one that had absorbed the spiritual power she had pulled from Inuyasha's body in the frantic, final effort to save him. She bit her lip as the pain slammed full force back into her awareness. Inuyasha!

Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she sobbed, both hands grasping the arrow as she leaned over it. Why? He had been getting stronger, he had! Maybe she hadn't known how she was going to make a life together with a hanyo, but while he'd been alive, she been able to at least dream! How could he be gone? He couldn't be gone!

The arrow pulsed with a flash of blinding light. Kikyo cried out, then froze as a vision slashed across her awareness. She was the arrow, held in a small hand, her point slashing towards the dark robes of a monk. She penetrated the dark cloth before hitting resistance. The pressure against her point increased, and then it vanished with a pop and cloud of smoking fragments of paper.

Eyes wide, Kikyo threw herself back out of the vision, almost losing her balance. _Shikigami!_ She should have known immediately what those paper scraps represented. The arrow had been used—Kaede, it had to have been—to destroy a shikigami. But when had it happened—it could only have happened while she was gone. And that meant it had to be tied into what had happened. Her premonition, Inuyasha's disappearance—everything. Scrambling to her feet, she pivoted, eyes staring. Blood. Blood everywhere. Yet nothing but blood? And only one scrap from his clothing? And lying in a corner, not near the futon? Human magic, and youkai?

She ran out of the hut, the arrow still in one hand. It didn't surprise her to find the headman waiting for her. "Where is she?" she demanded. "Where is my sister? I have to talk to her!"

"She was sent with others to gather wild berries along the edge of the forest," he said. "Kikyo, I want to let you know—"

"Which direction?" she demanded, interrupting.

"Along the main trail to the east, miko-sama," said Satsuki . "I thought they should—"

"Tell me later!" Kikyo brushed around them and broke in to a run, not caring if she were being rude. She had to know what had happened. She had to know the truth. She had to know it now.

* * *

Tsubaki prodded the limp hanyo with one foot, lip curling in disgust. It was exactly what she had known it would be – rude and quite ungrateful. _And fast_, one part of her mind whispered. She grimaced, not wanting to remember the frisson of fear that had run down her back when it had lunged at her with that incredible speed. Had she not already had the wisdom to protect herself with a barrier, she was certain it would have torn her apart. 

Which just demonstrated how much of a beast the hanyo truly was. After all, hadn't she saved its life?

She thought back to the night before. It had been exhilarating flying through the storm; well worth the energy to keep a protective barrier around her nervous flyers. Finding a way through Kikyo's barrier had been a different story, however. She had not wanted to simply overpower it, yet that was what it came to, for the barrier had been intricately woven from spells meant not only to protect, but also to hide. Unfortunately, overpowering the barrier had required that she drop her own shields, including the one against the rain. She had been quite unpleasantly damp by the time she managed to break the barrier.

She had not been surprised to find Kaede standing in the middle of the hut, an arrow fitted to her small bow. The girl had reacted in surprise, hesitating, unconsciously relaxing the tension on the bow. It had been simple, requiring only a flick of a finger, to trigger the already-prepared sleep spell. As the girl had dropped, Tsubaki had looked around for her real prey.

And found only a black-haired human boy, who had stared dully at her with dilated eyes for a long moment before even trying to move. He hadn't even gotten halfway to his feet before he collapsed, feebly retching, blood flowing from his mouth. If it had't been for the charm hanging from his neck, and the fact that the clothing he was wearing matched what she had seen through the shikigami's eyes when the hanyo attacked, she would have taken him for a common villager. Not quite believing she had found her prey, she had cast a spell of timelessness on the boy, to ensure he didn't die, and had then turned her attention to Kikyo's sister. A brief spell of control, and a few questions, and she had learned the truth about the hanyo, and about the peculiar weakness of the breed.

"I'm glad you didn't die before I got there," she told the unconscious hanyo. "I would have been so disappointed." She nudged his unresponsive body again. "You are going to die, you know. Once I've taught you to behave properly, like a disgusting half-breed should. And once Kikyo's learned that she should never have turned on me. Should I let her watch you die, or let you watch her die? I think I'll make her watch—no, I'll make the whole village watch. Make them learn why hanyos should never be allowed in human society."

She smiled. "You'll regret you ever heard of the Shikon No Tama."

* * *

Kaede followed the other children as they searched for berries, not caring that her own basket was empty. Tameo's occasional touch on her shoulder reminded her to keep up with the others, but she had no strength in her to look beyond the edge of her basket. 

It was her fault that Inuyasha was dead. She didn't know what she could have done, but surely she could have done something, if only she hadn't fallen asleep. If only the demon hadn't taken her by surprise. There had to have been something she could have done. Her sister had depended on her. Inuyasha had depended on her. She had failed them. Because of her, Inuyasha was dead, and eaten, by a demon he would have been able to take out with a single swipe, if he had been well.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. Kaede looked up, and froze. "Kikyo?" her lips said, her voice silent. For a long moment, she trembled, caught between the urge to throw herself into her sister's arms, and an opposite urge to pull away. Her strong, beautiful sister, that she had so utterly failed—

"There _is _a spell on you." Kaede blinked, at the unexpected statement, and at the fierceness of her sister's voice. "Take this—" she found the basket pulled away from her hands and an arrow shoved into them. "—And hold still." Her sister's hands clapped over the sides of her head and made her look up, to meet Kikyo's fixed, glittering gaze. She felt her sister's power rising, felt the arrow vibrating in her hands. She felt the power washing through her. Something resisted that power, like a thin, dark knot tied around something in her head. It tightened, and it hurt. She bit her lip, but didn't move, her eye's gaze fastened on her sister's face, not caring what happened, knowing that whatever her sister was trying to do, it was for her sake. She didn't care if it hurt. She didn't care.

The knot tightened again, then abruptly disintegrated. Kaede staggered, her thoughts blurring in to a whirl of dizziness. When she regained awareness, she realized that she was gathered in her sister's lap, Kikyo's arms wrapped around her. Her head hurt.

"I'm sorry," murmured Kikyo, as Kaede winced. "I had to break the spell."

"Spell?"

"A spell on your mind." Kikyo shifted her hold slightly. "Listen, Kaede. I think what you remember about last night may be wrong. I want you to tell me everything that happened after I left."

"But—" Kaede turned enough to meet her sister's eyes. "Do I have to talk about last night again? Sister, they made me tell them again and again—I—please, I don't want to talk about it! Not again!" Crying, she buried her face against Kikyo's jacket.

"Shhh…" Kikyo rocked her a little, stroking her hair with one hand. "I know, little sister. I know. But listen to me—something's not right. Things don't fit. Why was there a shikigami? Why didn't the youkai kill you? And if it tore Inuyasha apart, why is there—why is there—only blood? And why the spell on you—which didn't feel like anything a youkai would use."

"But—"

"I want you to start with yesterday afternoon, immediately after I left. Don't think about it, just let it come out." The one-armed hug tightened. "And I'm here, little sister. Whatever happened, I'm here."

Young Kaede bit her lip, trying to stop her tears. Starting to reach up to rub the tears away, she realized she was still holding the arrow. The arrow. "I-I killed the shikigami with the arrow."

"I know, little sister—the arrow showed me what happened. But can you start with what happened after I left?"

Switching hands on the arrow, Kaede reached up to wipe the tears off her face, and then leaned into her sister. "Inuyasha was really upset by your leaving. He didn't want to admit he was upset, but he insisted on taking another walk. He…"


	8. Chapter 8: Manners

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part VIII: Manners**

Tsubaki.

Kikyo closed her eyes and bowed her head, as an exhausted Kaede slumped in her hold. Tsubaki. The dark priestess, who had tried to curse her with early death. The woman who had tried to kill her and steal the Shikon No Tama. Kikyo had not been able to kill a sister priestess, even one who had turned to the dark path. She had thought Tsubaki punished enough, with the backlash of her own spell.

And here was the price for her leniency. Inuyasha captured. Not dead: of that she was certain. It wouldn't be in the dark priestess' nature to simply kill him. Tsubaki would have realized that the Shikon No Tama was destroyed. She would torture Inuyasha simply because of his connection to her. If Tsubaki learned that he was himself responsible for the jewel's disappearance…

She opened her eyes, not caring if anyone saw the tears tracing down her cheeks. "I have to go after her," she whispered. "I can't let her destroy him."

"And I'm going, too."

Kikyo looked down at met Kaede's eye. "No, little sister." She combed the ragged bangs back. "This is my fight. Not yours."

"But—"

She put a finger over Kaede's lips. "I need you here."

* * *

He woke slowly, feeling groggy and exhausted. Feeling his torso throb in pain, he growled, then in the silence remembered his first awakening. Keeping his eyes closed, he concentrated on his ears and nose. Deciding that no one was in the room, he leveraged himself to a sitting position, and then started to examine himself. The burns on his shoulder had disappeared, save for some scarring. His left forearm was entirely covered with skin, but the flesh underneath was shrunken and malformed, with the last two fingers still immobile. 

He examined what he could see of his gut wound. The wound had shrunk to a ragged, star-shaped scar, but it was still swollen and, as a careful finger proved, still quite tender. The larger area around the scar was darkly bruised and sensitive. He sighed, ears dropping. The feeling of motion surprised him a little. Reaching up, he discovered that his ears had regrown, but not completely, ending in tattered, ragged edges. His hair in the front was growing back, but at the moment, was no more than a thick bristle, less than the width of a finger.

Looking around the room, he saw that it was nearly as large as Kikyo's hut, but almost entirely empty, save for the crumpled heap of the material he must have been sleeping under the first time. There was also, along one wall, what appeared to be a wooden drinking vessel.

He sniffed. Water. He became aware of the dryness of his mouth and throat. He almost obeyed the first impulse to scramble over to the container and drain it. Two thoughts held him back. The first; that he was a prisoner, that the witch almost certainly had a watch on him, and he was cursed if he was going to make it obvious how thirsty he was.

And second was the distinctly embarrassing memory of the results of the purloined bowl of stew. His stomach felt better, but he wasn't ready to trust it.

Climbing to his feet, the hanyo had to wait for his head to stop spinning. When his head cleared, he walked over to the abandoned cloth and picked it up. As expected, it was a roughly woven, undyed, oversized kimono. He was tempted to drop it with a disdainful sneer, but the epithet of 'puppy' was still annoying him. The witch expected him to be uncivilized? He thought that a lot of things humans did were downright stupid, and he normally didn't care what humans thought about him. But he was cursed if he was going to do what the witch expected.

The kimono was large enough to hide the privates even without a belt. Making his way over to the wall where the water was, Inuyasha seated himself with as much surface nonchalance as he could. Sniffing as he picked up the container, he decided that it contained only water. Nevertheless, he forced himself to take only a modest sip, working the water around his mouth before swallowing. He waited awhile, and then took several more cautious swallows. Setting the container back down, he leaned back, folded his arms into the generous folds of the sleeves, and pretended to go to sleep.

Concentrating on hearing and nose, Inuyasha sought hints of where he was and who besides the witch was keeping him prisoner. He detected a forest, and sun-heated grass, but nothing suggesting crops or gardens. Catching the hint of humming, he finally decided that the witch was at least two rooms away. He smelled nothing else that smelled remotely human, but there were distinct odors of demons, both lingering and present. He dectected nothing to suggest they were very strong demons—nothing he wouldn't be able to dispatch with a single blow, even in his weakened state. Nevertheless, they made him uneasy, because he couldn't understand their presence. The woman was not another Naraku, he was certain. She had her own source of power, so why was she apparently working with demons—and quite minor ones at that?

The riddle remained unanswered as Inuyasha detected light footsteps heading towards the room approaching the room. The scent of paper, ink, and youkai preceded the sliding back of the door. Lazily, Inuyasha opened his eyes and turned his head. A short, slender 'man' dressed all in black stepped through. Inuyasha looked at him, not moving, his face deliberately blank.

The puppet bowed. "The Lady Tsubaki has instructed that the hanyo is to be bathed and clothed, if so it desires. If the hanyo would follow this one?"

His ears twitched. After silencing him and knocking him out, now she was offering him a bath and clothing? Inuyasha entertained the thought of finding out just how flimsy the paper-smelling thing was. He doubted it could stand up to his physical claws, let alone the power attack. It would be so satisfying to shred it into tiny pieces of paper.

But he didn't quite dare. His sense of self-preservation kept slapping down every impulsive thought that came to him. But he knew it was not the time to show fight. He didn't know how powerful this 'Tsubaki' was; but her previous actions were an ominous clue. Attacking her, at the moment, was apt to get him further injured, or dead.

Part of him didn't give a damn.

Another part of him did. The part that wanted to get back to Kikyo. The part that wanted to be with Kikyo, to take care of her, like she'd been taking care of him.

Something he couldn't do if he acted too much like his usual impulsive self and got killed.

He growled to himself and rose with apparent smoothness to his feet. Nodding to the puppet, he fell in behind it after it bowed and turned around, walking out of the room.

Trailing the shikigami, Inuyasha felt his skin prickling as he was led through what—to his eyes—appeared to be several vacant rooms. His nose was picking up scents that where in disagreement with his eyes and even his sense of touch told him. Was someone—this 'Tsubaki'—using illusions against him? Why else would he see floor mats and wood, and smell crushed grass? He tried to keep his ears from flattening and his hands from arching—if the witch was using illusions, he didn't want her to realize that she was failing to fool his nose.

But he forgot that, as the shikigami opened a door and gestured him to enter. He took a step over the threshold, and then stared in shock and a surge of memory.

It was a bathhouse, but tiled and decorated in a manner that only the nobility could afford.

Like the one his mother's family had owned.

For a moment, he thought it was the same bathhouse. Then memories became clearer, and he knew this was not the same one. The family version had been tiled in green, yellow and white, with the family's crest in the design. This was a much plainer blue and white, with no real pattern. It was also smaller.

"Clothing is provided in the next room," said the puppet, with a bow. "The lady will see you after you have dressed." The door slid shut.

Inuyasha kept himself from sneering. He had no doubt the witch was keeping some sort of watch on him. He eyed the hot pool, the irritating smell of minerals suggesting that the source of the water was a hot spring, wondering if she expected him to be so ignorant that he would simply plunge in. Turning his back on it, he looked for a proper alcove. A panel on the opposite wall slid back, revealing what he was looking for. Eying the buckets of water, he pulled his hair forward, grimacing internally as he examined it. Between them, Kaede and Kikyo had tried to remove the blood from his hair, but wet cloths and combs had only taken the worst of it out. Pulling off the kimono and dropping it into an empty basket, he picked up a dipper, leaned over one of the buckets and began to pour water over his hair, careful to waste as little as possible. He could not keep the grimace off his face as he picked up the only cleanser in the alcove—a sharp-smelling slab of harsh, lye soap. He could smell the lingering, floral scent of a milder soap, but the witch obviously wasn't inclined to share.

Eventually deciding that he was as clean as he could stand to make himself, Inuyasha dashed the last bucket of water—now barely warm—over his head. Resisting the instinctive urge to shake himself, he set the empty bucket precisely in its original position. Wringing the water out of his hair, he coiled it loosely on top of his head, then used a long, narrow cloth from a shelf to keep it in place. Flicking another, smaller cloth from the shelf, he held it ostentatiously in front of himself, he stepped carefully back into the main room. He slipped into the water with barely a ripple, smirking inside. Just because he hadn't had a chance to use a bathhouse since he was a child, didn't mean he was an ignorant barbarian.

The hot water was painful on his half-healed wounds at first. But as the pain eased, he began to relax. He had forgotten what it felt like to be immersed in hot water. A hunted hanyo could never dare try to relax even in the most hidden hot spring pool he might locate; and, of course, the human-built baths were forever out of reach. He had forgotten how good it felt—

Memory washed over him, with an anguish that made his eyes sting. Hastily leaning forward, he dipped the cloth in the water and then splashed his face as he fought not to let any tears out. He remembered. Some of his favorite times with his mother had been in the bath, usually at odd hours, late in the evening, when no one else would be there. How he had loved those times! Sometimes he would splash water all around, giggling at her gentle chiding; other times, he would happily sit across from her as she told a story, and sometimes, he would simply lean against her, wrapped around her arm, content simply to be. He had always felt so safe those times! So safe, and warm, so happy and feeling loved—and all of it washed away when his mother died.

Angry and irritated, he dipped the cloth and splashed his face again. Why should he be all upset now? He would have lost his mother long ago, even if she hadn't died of the fever that winter. He'd long since grown old enough not to need a mother. He didn't need to be protected. He didn't need to be—

His thoughts can to an abrupt halt, as a realization came to him. Like it or not, he had been needing protection—and he had gotten it. From Kikyo. He remembered how easily he had fallen asleep on her shoulder that day. How he had woken up another night, feverish and shaking from a nightmare, and she had been there, soothing him, softly singing a lullaby. He had felt safe, he realized. For the first time since his mother had died, he had felt safe, and cared for.

And now this damned witch had tricked Kikyo, and snatched him away, making him a prisoner. Did Kikyo even know if he was still alive? Would she come hunting for him? When he managed to escape, would he be able to find her? And how was he going to escape? The witch must be powerful, to destroy his voice with a simple snap of fingers. How was he to defeat her? He knew how to fight youkai. He knew how to not get caught and killed by demon-slayers or mikos or priests. But a witch?

He felt anger flaring within him, and forced it down. He couldn't afford to lose his temper again. He had to be patient, he had to keep his head. He had to learn about his enemy, learn her weakness. This was a hunt, he told himself. A hunt against a dangerous and cunning prey. He must be the patient stalker, the watcher, waiting for the right moment to strike.

_I will do it,_ he thought, sinking deeper into the water, until it lapped his chin. _I will come back to you, my Kikyo. I promise. _

* * *

Kikyo knelt across from the headman, the forlorn scrap of cloth before her. "I know the village may be at risk, if I leave. But I can't leave Inuyasha in her hands. She'll torture him, she'll try to break his mind and will. I can't let her do that—not to anyone, and not to him."

Yasuo sighed, looked at the bloodstained piece of cloth. "He does not deserve that," he agreed softly. "Hopefully I could say that, even if he hadn't saved our people." He met Kikyo's weary but relieved gaze as she looked up. "You have guarded and healed us since your arrival, miko-sama," he said. "It would be selfish, to insist you stay here, when your hanyo and your heart need you to go."

Beside him, Satsuki stirred. He glanced at her and gave a minute nod. Her answering glance included a quick smile. "And I will answer before you ask, miko-sama. Yasuo-dono and I would be honored to care for your sister, while you are gone."

Kikyo looked startled. "You and—" She looked back and forth between the two people, before bringing her gaze back to Yasuo. "You've—decided?"

He smiled, somewhat sadly. "A death—well, in this case, an apparent death—reminds one that there is only a limited time for living. My wife would say I have mourned for her too long as it is. And I have known for months, that Satsuki is the one I would most want to live the remainder of my life with."

Kikyo smiled. "I will have to find Inuyasha quickly. I would not want to miss your wedding."

Yasuo shook his head, though pleased by her reaction. "We will not wed until some time after the rice harvest—would I dishonor Satsuki-san with a hasty wedding?" Beside him, Satsuki snorted.

"Stupid husband-to-be," she said cheerfully. "Think you, I truly care if we have a ceremony or not? Once was enough for me. But, alas, you are the headman, and we do not need every person in this village, and every village in this region, to be gossiping about your—indiscretions."

Yasuo shook his head. "We can argue later, wife-to-be. But for now—miko-sama, how else may we help you? And, if I may ask, how do you hope to find Inuyasha? Do you know where this Tsubaki lives?"

Kikyo reached as if to touch the scrap of cloth. "His blood on this cloth will lead me," she said. "There is a spell I can use: his blood will call to his blood." She sighed, looking weary again. "Complicated spells, such as Tsubaki uses, have never been my preference. Healing was what I loved learning, at the temple, and archery and giving my power to the sacred arrows I learned without effort. But the ceremonies, and the spells…" she shook her head. "But I have no choice. I must find him, as quickly as I can."

"And we will give you our prayers," Satsuki said, standing up and moving over to kneel next to the young priestess. She gave Kikyo a hug. "We will pray to the gods that they guide your steps, and that they give you the strength to defeat this dark priestess quickly."

* * *

Kikyo walked down the steps from the shrine. She had chosen to cast her finding spell within its protective confines. It appeared to have worked—she knew which direction to go—but she felt so drained! She didn't recall feeling so tired the last time she had cast the spell. Oh the other hand, she had spent much of her energy yesterday, and had slept poorly, so little wonder she found it harder to work the spell.

The horse—and most of the village—were waiting for her at the bottom of the hill. Yasuo gave her a questioning glance, to which she gave a slight nod in reply, touching the scrap of cloth tucked into her sash. He stepped back and out of the way, patting her shoulder as she walked to the horse.

Out of habit, she checked the saddle girth and the fastenings of the various items attached to the saddle. She paused as she touched a bag she hadn't put on. "What's this?" she asked aloud. "Who put this here?"

"I did." Kikyo looked over at her sister, as Kaede stepped out of the crowd. "It's Inuyasha's fire-rat robes," she said. "He'll want them, when you find him."

Kikyo blinked, chagrined to realize that she hadn't thought about what Inuyasha would wear, after she freed him. Medicines and bandages to tend his wounds, yes, but clothing? Still—"Kaede, they're only rags. They won't do him any good."

"But they're not rags, not now!" Kaede exclaimed. "Take a look!"

Hesitating, Kikyo turned back to the bag and unfastened the ties. Reaching in, she pulled out the top layer. Her eyes widened, as she held out the red kimono. A quarter moon ago, when she had removed the kimono from Inuyasha's body, she would have sworn that there was not one piece of it wider than her hand. She would have tossed the rags in the fire, save for knowing that they wouldn't burn, and also knowing that they were all Inuyasha had from his parents.

But this kimono was in one piece. It was still torn and tattered, but there were no bloodstains and no burns. Very faintly, she could feel a whisper of youkai power in the cloth—and it was familiar. Inuyasha.

She felt a lightening of heart, and a lift of energy. Inuyasha was alive. Somehow, the kimono seemed to be telling her that, more clearly than her reasoning had. Carefully, she folded the material and held it to her breasts a moment before placing it back in the bag. "Thank-you, Kaede," she said, looking at her sister, just a bit misty-eyed. "You are right. He will want those."

Kaede rushed up and hugged her, which Kikyo returned. "You'll come back—both of you!" she said. "Please promise you'll come back!"

"I'll do the very best I can," Kikyo replied, not willing to make a promise she knew she might not be able to keep." Kaede looked hurt, and Kikyo shook her head. "I promise that I'll not come back without him."

She would keep that promise.

* * *

Tsubaki studied the final lines of her written spell, a small smile on her lips. It had been a good day, despite a few drawbacks. Kikyo had broken the spell on her sister, just as expected, and had taken the bait. The number of youkai attracted to her lure had increased, allowing her to be more selective. And the hanyo was proving to be much easier to subdue than she had guessed. Taking its voice had obviously shaken it so badly that it hadn't even tried to test her spells against escape.

Though it was a pity that it had managed to elude her trap in the bathhouse. Who would have thought it knew enough to clean itself before attempting to enter the main tub?

The door behind her slid back. Tsubaki continued to review the scroll, unconcerned about any attempt to attack her from behind. Even a taiyoukai would have problems with her shield, let alone a mere hanyo. Her indifference to its position directly behind her should have a satisfactory subduing effect on the hanyo. Even better, of course, would be the lesson she was going to teach it, about its utterly futility in selecting proper clothing for itself. The bathing house escape might well be due to some primitive level of reasoning, and presumably some sort of instincts about cleanliness. But no instinct or reasoning could help it with the clothes she had stacked around the room, all of them be-spelled to look and feel like the finest silks, and in every color possible. Who knew if it even saw in color? It certainly had no sense for clothes, given that ridiculous peasant garb it had been wearing when she had rescued it.

The faint rustle of silk told her that the hanyo was moving. She looked up, prepared to laugh at its ridiculous appearance.

Instead, her thoughts froze.

White was what she first saw as she raised her eyes. The hair that had been a tangled, dirty mass of stained strands was a glimmering fall of pure white cascading past his hips. Against the dark blue haori that she knew was real silk and not illusion, his hair blazed. It swayed slightly as he walked, his steps silent, save for the whisper of silk from the pleated hakama that matched the haori, and her eyes followed that fall that was thicker and longer than her own treasured locks, almost hypnotized.

He turned to face her. Golden eyes, brighter than any polished coin, met her gaze squarely from under dramatic black eyebrows. The hair on top of his head was a short, thick bristle, which oddly did not distract from his appearance. The tattered tips of his dog-like ears were barely visible through locks of hair that had been carefully combed forward.

He paused by the flat cushion, standing tall and poised, and she drank in his appearance. The sleeved haori was decorated with red and gold appliqués of dragons. Arms folded across his chest, hands hidden in the voluminous sleeves, he gave her a long, intense look.

Tsubaki stared back, aware of nothing but the image before her. Eyes locked onto hers, he stepped forward onto the cushion with stockinged feet, and then slowly went to his knees, his eyes not once wavering from hers. Unfolding his arms, he placed his loosely-fisted hands on his thighs, revealing the edges of the dark blue and inner white kimonos he wore underneath the haori.

He was exotic, handsome, and graceful beyond anything she had ever seen. Almost panting, her heart racing, inexplicably warm, Tsubaki could not look away. The fool of a nobleman she'd entertained a week ago was an overweight, petulant, dull nonentity compared to the young man before her. His intense gaze, that golden fire, said things—promised things—she wanted—she wanted—

He started. His eyes widened a moment, as he stared at her, and then, with a jerk, he looked away, red flushing across his cheeks. Contact broken, Tsubaki found herself able to yank her own gaze away, staring down at her scroll with something like shock. She'd never felt more than the faintest echo of such a reaction before. But she knew what it was. Impossible as it was.

Attraction.

To a hanyo.

Tsubaki fought to keep her emotions from showing as shame and embarrassment flashed through her. This couldn't be! Attraction to a hanyo, a vile mix of human and youkai? As well be attracted to a mindless, ravaging beast! This couldn't happen to her! She was no mere woman, to be slave to bodily needs! Let that weak-willed Kikyo succumb to the urge to give herself to a male! She was Tsubaki, beautiful and pure, and no male—human or monster—was going to sully her!

She removed the weights holding the scroll open and rolled it shut. Precisely placing the weights on the desk surface gave her a few more moments to reassert control over her face and body. Finally looking back up, she found his gaze directed at her again. She met it, calling on hate to strengthen her will. She already had cause to hate him—it, she reminded herself. It had destroyed the Shikon No Tama. Now it was trying to turn her own body against her—well, it wouldn't succeed!

"At least, now I see why Kikyo fell so easily to my curse," she said, smiling. "You lmost look like a very pretty human boy, properly dressed. I, of course, could never be seduced by a mere hanyo. Unlike that pathetic excuse of a miko."

It blinked, then stared harder, eyes narrowing a little. "Surprised, little puppy?" she asked, with a slight sneer. "You think I didn't know all about Kikyo and her hanyo lover? After all, I'm the one who cursed her with death."

It started, looking surprised, then disbelieving. It shook its head, and blew out a silent snort. "What, you don't believe me?" Tsubaki asked, projecting amusement. "Well, I suppose she never told you. She wouldn't. But I can assure you, it was an excellent curse. Why else do you think a miko of her power would fall in love with a mere hanyo? Why else do you think her powers weakened, to the point she could be slain by a youkai?"

It flinched and stared at her, face paling. Tsubaki smiled, and pressed on the weakness she had uncovered. "You don't really believe a woman like Kikyo could love a vile, dirty abomination of a hanyo of her own free will, do you? Oh, pity you, perhaps, but to fall in love with a dog-eared thing like you?" She laughed. "You're pathetic! She doesn't love you—she only thinks she does!"

* * *

Inuyasha sank his claws into the palms of his hands as his mind screamed under the impact of the witch's barbed words. Words that echoed all the words thrown at him for nearly all the decades of his life, from human and youkai alike. Freak. Abomination. Dirty. Filthy. Half-blood, hanyo, hanyo, hanyo!

He looked down, grinding his teeth against the snarl of rage and pain that wanted to tear itself out of him. He tried to fight the howl of pain, the burning rage that he had started to cage, since he had first realized that Kikyo wasn't just trying to trap him with her attempts to converse with him. The witch was lying, he told himself. This was just an attack. She was just trying to hurt him, just as surely if she using a knife instead of words. But he wouldn't give in! He wouldn't!

Closing his eyes, panting through his clenched and bared teeth, Inuyasha struggled to bring memories to his mind, calling on fragile, new defenses he had been learning to summon against the pain. Little fingers gently stroking his ears, little arms fearlessly flinging themselves around his neck. A one-eyed girl, standing straight against her fear, affectionately calling him 'older brother.' A middle-aged man, thanking him—_thanking _him—for saving his people.

And a spirit's praise. _You are indeed worthy of love._ If he could not believe a miko's words—the words of a miko whose soul had spent untold years trapped in a battle against evil—then who could he believe?

_Worthy of love._ Inuyasha opened his eyes, pushing the pain and the rage back. _Worthy of love._ Turning his hands over, he forced his hands to unclench, watching the puncture wounds stop bleeding, shrink to pinpoints and disappear. Turning his hands back over on his thighs, he breathed deeply, forcing his jaws to relax. Straightening, he raised his head and looked at the witch.

She stopped laughing. She frowned a little, studying him. He studied her, trying to read her scent without obvious sniffing. She scowled, looking annoyed. Considering, he smiled at her. He knew who had won this round.

She glared at him. "Don't get over-confident, little puppy," she snarled. "I didn't save your worthless life out of the goodness of my heart."

He cocked an eyebrow at her and nodded, his smile gone. Some of the ire left her face, and she smirked again. "I'm sure you've been wondering why I saved your life."

Inuyasha shrugged. "You don't know, or you don't care?" He gazed steadily at her, not trying to answer. She looked annoyed again, then, with a toss of her head, visibly forced the annoyance out of her expression. "It's really quite simple, little puppy," she said with a false, simpering smile. "You've made me very angry at you. You destroyed something that was supposed to be mine." He blinked, bewildered. She didn't give him any time to wonder. "The Shikon No Tama should have been mine—not Kikyo's. I would have turned it to much better use than she would have, or you did. Wasting it on a few stupid villagers!" she sneered. "You're such a fool, hanyo!"

Inuyasha stared at her, taken aback. _He_ was a fool? Remembering the power he'd felt inside the jewel, from both halves, he knew the real fool was sitting across from him. The night after the episode of purloined stew, too much in pain to sleep, he had welcomed Kikyo's questions about the fate of the Shikon jewel. In turn, she had told him the history of the jewel, as much as she had learned from the taijiya headman. He had that night become grateful that he had not ever captured the jewel for himself, for he'd found himself agreeing with Kikyo's conclusion. He could have become youkai, but at the cost of his heart and soul.

Staying hanyo forever was better than paying that price.

Her sharp eyes apparently caught some clue of what was going through his mind. "You think I'm the fool, don't you?" she challenged. "You think I couldn't control the jewel? Well, you're wrong!" Her hands curled into fists. "You think I'm just a weak, human woman with a few tricks, don't you? You think you just need to wait for a moment of weakness, and then you'll escape, don't you?"

He shook his head, but she didn't appear to notice, her blue eyes glittering. "Well, you're wrong. I am Tsubaki, a dark priestess. I am now more powerful than Kikyo, as she'll find out when she tries to find you. I am going to kill you, very, very slowly, and she's going to watch. And then I will kill her, and her sister, and I will curse that village with sickness and suffering. And it will be all your fault, hanyo. Your fault for destroying the Shikon No Tama."

His ears canted backwards, and if he could have, he would have been growling. Was the witch mad? Wanting vengeance on him and Kikyo, that was one thing. But the villagers? They were only innocent bystanders!

She saw his snarl. "Angry, at you? Well, you're not as angry as I am! Shall I show you? Here!" Tsubaki pulled a small, very slender knife from out of a sleeve. "I had to use very powerful spells to save your life, you know. I put a spell of timelessness on you in Kikyo's hut, to keep you from dying. Then when I got back here, I had to take that off and put a spell of healing on you. But do you know what the difference between a spell and a curse is?" she asked, then swept on. "Intent. And that spell on your wound is still active. And I can turn it from a spell of healing, to a curse, so easily. Like this."

She thrust the point of the tiny knife into the wooden table before her, whispering in words Inuyasha didn't recognize.

His wound throbbed, as pain stabbed from front to back. Inuyasha gasped, then gritted his teeth. She twisted the knife in the table top, and the pain grew. She continued to whisper, eyes glittering at she watched him. Inuyasha felt cold sweat break out on his forehead as the pain mounted with each beat of his heart. He clenched his fists, staring back at her, determined not to react or give in.

The pain seared. He refused to move. Refused to scream. He glared, ears now flat against his skull. She glared back, the triumph in her eyes replaced by anger, her voice rising as she continued her spell, small curls of wood gathering at the tip of the knife as she punished the table. The pain became ever hotter, and his body was frozen with the tension, but he continued to match her glare, willing himself not to give in. He was youkai and human, and no damned witch's spell was going to make him scream! His vision began to haze. Anger flared, and he felt a different kind of fire flooding his veins. He snarled, baring his fangs.

The snarl reached his ears.

And hers.

She started, her concentration shattering. The knife dropped from her hand, and she sagged, nearly collapsing, her face going gray.

Inuyasha found himself crumpling forward as the pain vanished. He gasped for air, panting, as his head swam. Shaking, he forced to his feet. Swaying, he stared at the slumping woman, realizing that she was at his mercy. Cracking his knuckles, he raised his hand. One swipe of his claws would destroy her, just as he had destroyed so many youkai. One swipe and he would be free, to return to Kikyo, to the village.

He arched his fingers.

And hesitated.

She was a human. A woman.

And a promise stood between his claws and her death. _Promise me, Inuyasha._ His mother's voice whispered in his ears, as her drawn face danced before his eyes. _Promise me._

"Damn it!" With a curse, Inuyasha clenched his fist, turned, and staggered towards the door. He had to get out, before the witch recovered. He willed his legs to move faster. He would run. He could run. He would get out of this place, out of her reach. He would run, run all the way back to the village, to Kikyo. Then he would rest.

He made it past the door, into the next room. The dizziness began to fade, and his legs stopped feeling as if they were going to collapse. The opposite door was wide open, and he could see a porch, and beyond it, forest, shadowed with twilight. Heart lifting, Inuyasha sprang forward.

He leapt through the door, his leap taking him clear across the porch and across the steps. Grass cushioned his landing, and he felt a laugh starting to bubble in his throat. Gods. Free--

Something small and sharp buried itself in his back. Startled, Inuyasha whirled. Next to the door stood the shikigami, face expressionless, its arm extended from the act of throwing. Reaching behind him, Inuyasha pulled out the small knife, thought of throwing it back at the shikigami, then shrugged off the notion and dropped it. Why bother attacking a puppet? He turned his face back towards the woods and sprang.

But instead of his legs driving him off the ground and into the free air, he found them giving way. He slammed down onto his face. Stunned, he tried to push himself off the ground, only to discover that his arms failed to work. Paralyzed! The knife—it had to have been the knife.

He would have screamed with rage, but found his throat once again paralyzed. Damn it! He'd been so close! So close!

Small feet appeared within his very limited range of vision. "The lady Tsubaki gave orders that the hanyo was not allowed to leave," said the shikigami. "The poison works on human and youkai blood. It will not kill the hanyo, but it will be unable to move until the mistress gives the antidote. This one extends its apologies. It acts only as the mistress requires."

A polite shikigami.

What was with this woman's stupid obsession with manners?

Not that it mattered.

He'd lost what was probably his best chance to get free.

And he couldn't even growl.


	9. Chapter 9: The Son of the Dog General

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part IX: Son of the Dog General**

"Mistress? Mistress—what's wrong! I-I just peeked in to see why you hadn't called for the dinner yet and I found you like this--!"

Tsubaki flinched from the paws trying to help her sit up. "I am—I am fine, Yukuuku! I do not need your help!" Pressing one hand against the table and the other against her forehead, she forced herself upright. "If you want to help, get me a cup of tea."

"Of course, mistress! Right away, mistress!"

Tsubaki didn't listen to the patter of paws leaving the room, trying to understand what had happened. She had turned the healing spell against the hanyo, she recalled, intending to make him scream, to make him acknowledge her superior power. But he had proven more stubborn than she had expected. He had resisted, refusing to cry out, staring her down. Angered, she had matched his glare, increasing the power of her spell, until–what?

There had been a pulse, she recalled. A pulse of power, not her own. It had shattered the muting spell she had placed on the hanyo. The backlash had broken her concentration on the anti-healing spell, and before she could recover, another pulse of power had shattered that as well.

Where had it come from, that power? Surely not from that hanyo! Half-breeds were weak, useless abominations; everyone knew that! It was amazing enough that this hanyo had survived to near adulthood, let alone be able to defy her spell for even a moment. Was someone helping the hanyo—oh, that was ridiculous! The only one who would, that spell-blinded Kikyo, was not the source—it was anything but spiritual in base. So where had it come from?

"M-Mistress? Your tea?"

Tsubaki opened her eyes. A female tanuki—a youkai in the form of a raccoon dog—knelt before her table, a mug in both paws, looking worried. "Are you sure you are all right, Mistress?"

"I will be fine, Yukuuku." Lowering her hand, Tsubaki reached forward and took the mug. It was warm in her hands. She sipped, and swallowed. The taste was odd but not unpleasant. She took a second swallow, eyed the anxiously-watching youkai, and decided not to question her about the contents. Yukuuku was a stubborn youkai in her own way, and Tsubaki had learned the last few months that some things weren't worth arguing about.

"You may bring in the dishes now," she said. Her stomach twinged slightly. "No, wait. Just the miso soup and the rice. I will not want anything else for now."

"Of course, Mistress," said the youkai with a seated bow. She looked around. "But, Mistress, what about your guest? Your instructions…"

Tsubaki's thin smile was unpleasant. "He—it chose not to be a guest. Please do what I ask, Yukuuku."

"Yes, Mistress!" The youkai scrambled to her feet and backed towards the side entrance, bowing all the way. "Immediately!"

Tsubaki sighed as the youkai vanished, and sipped again. She'd never intended to have servants, other than any shikigami she created. She'd hated the groveling of the terrified servants she seen growing up, and a human willing to work for a dark priestess was inherently untrustworthy. But shortly before her failed attack on Kikyo, she had, out of idle curiosity, followed the sound of whimpering to find the tanuki caught in a trap. It had been an intricate trap, woven with spells, and clearly intended to capture a youkai. Intrigued, she had spent some time carefully dismantling the trap, committing its details to memory. The tanuki had fled as soon as she was freed. Satisfied at having unraveled the trap's secrets, the dark priestess had shrugged off the lack of gratitude and gone about her business.

Then came the disastrous attack on Kikyo. Staggering away from the confrontation, dizzy and in pain, she had collapsed in the woods, too weak to raise even the most basic wards against danger. Her last desperate thought had been the horrified realization that she might not ever wake up, that she was utterly vulnerable to the first wild animal or youkai that decided it wanted to snack on a human being.

She had woken up to find herself back in her own house, on her own futon. Staring at the rafters, wondering how she had managed to return to her hut without remembering, she turned her head at a whispered question, and found herself looking at the tanuki she had freed. The youkai had stubbornly insisted on helping Tsubaki, much to her bemused surprise. By the time she was on her feet again, they had come to an understanding. Tsubaki preferred not to have anyone around when she was working. But she had no objection to Yukuuku foraging for food or keeping the woodpile stocked. Yukuuku was also a better cook, though Tsubaki preferred to prepare her own meals more often than not. The tanuki did not live in the house, but she had some way of knowing when Tsubaki wanted her. Which suited the dark priestess just fine.

She shook her head, irritated by her straying thoughts. "Kuroshin," she addressed the air, "The hanyo?"

_It did not escape. It is paralyzed, from the poisoned knife._

"Very well. Please bring it back here."

She felt its assent, and sighed. Leaning back, she drank more of the tea, feeling better by the moment, save for the annoyance she directed at herself. She had let the hanyo's resistance to her first jabs loosen the bounds on her temper. She had let the odd surge of attraction shake her determination. She had let his reactions annoy her, and made assumptions about his strength that were obviously wrong. She had neglected to blend her borrowed youkai energy into the spells she had placed on the hanyo. She was fortunate that the hanyo had been more intent on escape than on revenge, and that the defensive weapons she had created for her shikigami had proven up to the task of re-binding the hanyo.

The shikigami dragged the hanyo back into the room, moving easily, but too short to be able to keep the hanyou's feet from dragging the floor. Kuroshin eased the hanyo down to the floor, and then proceeded to twitch the clothes back into some kind of order. Tsubaki studied the hanyo's lax face, with its half-open, dulled eyes and slightly open mouth, and sneered to herself. The hanyo was not nearly as attractive now, she thought. Nevertheless, she found her hands itching to smooth the long, silky hair the shikigami had pulled forward over one shoulder. She found herself watching as Kuroshin folded the hanyo's hands across his waist, looking at the long, lean hands with their claw-like nails. The fingernails should have struck her as ridiculous. Only a very high-ranking official could take the effort to grow nails long: they should have looked ridiculous gracing the hands of a barbaric creature like a mere half-human. But the hands and nails fit together, and somehow bespoke of power—physical power.

She wondered if those strong hands could caress as well as destroy.

A gasp and the shattering crash of breaking ceramics brought Tsubaki's attention away from her wandering, embarrassing thoughts. Whipping her head around, she saw Yukuuku in the side entrance, tray, broken bowls, soup, and rice scattered about her feet. The tanuki's paws were in front of her snout, and she was shaking and whimpering. Her gaze was on the hanyo.

"Yukuuku—Yukuuku!" The youkai started, and then looked at Tsubaki with terrified eyes.

"Mistress, oh mistress, please don't let him get me! I'll do anything you want, oh please, please, please!"

Tsubaki stared at her servant. "What are you talking about, Yukuuku?" she demanded. "The hanyo? Surely you're not afraid of a lowly hanyo!"

The tanuki shook harder. "He's not just a hanyo, he's a monster!" she wailed. "Terrible, terrible monster! He hates youkai! He kills youkai! Dozens, dozens and dozens of youkai! He killed three ogres last year! Three! He killed the first, then the two went after him to get revenge, he killed both at once! Oh, Mistress, please be careful! He's not just any hanyo—he's the son of the great Dog General!"

Tsubaki realized that her mouth was hanging open, and shut it with a snap. The hanyo was strong enough to kill a youkai as powerful as an ogre? She glanced at its body. Take away the obvious signs of youkai blood, and the hanyo looked to be no more than a tall, well grown young man, whose abilities lay more in agility and speed than in sheer strength. Able to kill a youkai that was at least five times his height and many times that in weight?

Dozens of questions leapt to her mind, but the first thing to do was to calm the hysterical youkai. "Yukuuku." She smiled gently as the tanuki looked at her. "You have my word; I will protect you from the hanyo. I am stronger that it is: a hanyo is nearly as vulnerable to spiritual power as a youkai, and I have youkai energy to draw on as well. As the moment, it would not even be able to kill a flea: it is completely paralyzed; unable to move." She gestured. "Come, take a look. It can't harm you."

The tanuki nevertheless shivered, though she looked a bit less terrified. "Oh, no, I-I couldn't!" She looked down at the mess at her feet. "I-I must clean this up, mistress—please forgive me for dropping everything!"

"Of course," said Tsubaki, with a slight shake of her head. "Please clean everything up. Then bring back a pot of tea—and a cup for yourself."

Yukuuku looked startled, which was much better than looking terrified. Mistress?"

"I want you to tell me everything you know about this hanyo. And about the Dog General."

* * *

He'd been paralyzed by poison before. Several times, his brother had attacked him with his poison whip, leaving him helpless or nearly so, though why Sesshomaru always seemed to get distracted before finishing him off was one of those mysteries that Inuyasha had never figured out. There'd been a snake demon once, whose grazing slash had left him numb and clumsy for over a day. But this paralysis was far more complete. Nothing seemed to be moving, save his lungs and his heart. And even his lungs didn't seem to be working that well, for he felt horribly short of breath. 

A strong scent and far less strong youki billowed into the room, signaling the return of the tanuki. Inuyasha listened to the youkai's hysterics, somewhat astonished at the tanuki's description of him. A monster? Yeah, he killed youkai, but only because so many couldn't get their tiny minds wrapped around the concept that his half-youkai blood didn't mean he was a weakling. Though if the youkai population of the area decided to leave him alone because they thought he was a 'monster', he could live with that description.

He heard the tea being poured, and concentrated on sorting through the scents as an alternative to thinking about his helplessness. The tea had at least five identifiable herbs, though he couldn't have named them all. It was probably rather flowerly tasting, he thought. Not what he'd care to drink.

"Thank-you, Yukuuku," came the dark priestess' voice as the pouring stopped. "Now, please, be seated. I'm sure there is a lot you can tell me about this hanyo."

"Yes, mistress." Inuyasha heard the tanuki seat herself. "What would mistress like to know?"

"Everything," came the prompt reply. "You mentioned this 'Dog General'?"

"The Inu No Taisho used to rule over the Western Lands," said the tanuki. "He was a very powerful taiyoukai. It's said he turned back several invasions from the west. It's said that he could slay a hundred youkai with one swing of his sword. It's also said that no youkai ever defeated him, and yet, it's also said he died fighting humans, to save the human woman he'd taken as mate, and his hanyo son."

"So even a taiyoukai can be vulnerable to humans, hmm? Interesting. So what happened to the human woman?"

"I-I don't know, mistress. She's probably dead—humans don't live very long."

"You do not need to point that out to me, Yukuuku."

The irritable edge to Tsubaki's voice surprised Inuyasha. He hadn't thought humans might resent their short lives. Of course, he'd never thought about it, period.

"I-I'm sorry, mistress."

There was a sigh. "Go on."

"The Inu No Taisho also has an older son, a full youkai, named Sesshomaru. I-I don't know much about him, except it's said he's still young and hasn't gained as much power as his father held."

"Would he come after some one who killed his brother?"

"I-I don't know…"

Inuyasha mentally snorted. The only reason Sesshomaru would go after someone who killed him, would be because he was furious at not having succeeded in doing it himself.

"… but, well, why would he? I mean, it must be horribly embarrassing to have a hanyo half-brother. To have someone in your family fall in love with a-a human—I-I meant no disrespect, mistress."

"No." Tsubaki's voice was thoughtful. "So, this hanyo has a taiyoukai for a father. And, from what you've said, he has a fair amount of power himself. Do you know how he uses his power? Is he fast, strong?"

"I—I don't really know, mistress," faltered the tanuki. "Inu youkai are supposed to be really fast, and most of them use their claws as weapons. And, of course, they are also supposed to have really good noses."

Inuyasha swore silently as Tsubaki's aura flickered with her surprise. Why couldn't that wretched tanuki have forgotten that little piece of information! Human noses were so weak, that they tended to rarely think about the smells around them. He'd hoped she wouldn't figure out that particular characteristic until after he'd gotten away.

"Interesting." Tsubaki's voice was silky, giving no indication by its timber that she'd been surprised. "I would have thought an inu youkai would have been more like a dog, in how it attacks."

"I think they do, when they're in their true form," replied Yukuuku. "But they mostly stay in a human form. I—I don't think the hanyo can change form."

"Well, one wouldn't expect it to be able to do everything a youkai can." Silence followed, broken only by the sounds of tea being drunk. "Can the hanyo fly, do you know?"

The tanuki did not reply immediately. "I—I've never heard it said he could. But… the story about the ogres … it's said he got above them, and then slashed down with his claws."

"Hmm." Inuyasha wanted to growl in pure frustration. Why couldn't that cursed tanuki just shut up! "Does anyone know what the hanyo's weaknesses are?"

"Weaknesses?" The tanuki sounded surprised. "He's hanyo, so I suppose he loses his youkai blood once a month—all hanyos do, or so they say."

Tsubaki chuckled. "Yes, well, that, I had heard." Inuyasha would have tensed, if he could, then relaxed as Tsubaki went on without mentioning her personal knowledge of his exact time. "So. Powerful enough to kill ogres. What other youkai have you heard of, that he's killed? Are there any who survived his attacks? Any stories of his having to escape a youkai?"

Inuyasha found his focus starting to waver as the talkative tanuki went silent to consider her reply. He felt cold, dizzy, and his head was starting to ache. He tried to take a deep breath, but nothing happened. A stab of sheer fear shot through his brain. He couldn't breathe! He felt his heart react to the sudden panic, pounding in a fierce, fast determination for several moments. But then it began to slow. His body took a short, light breath, but it wasn't enough—not nearly enough! He tried to move, and his muscles didn't even tense.

Panic like he hadn't felt since he was a child blazed through him, except it felt distant, a thing apart from him. He screamed a denial in his mind, but it was barely a whisper in a gathering darkness. His fading thoughts cursed the stupid, oblivious woman. Surely she had been planning a more interesting death than this! Surely she had been planning something that he could have fought against, would have snarled in defiance even as she took his life! Not – this – way – stupid – cold

Nothingness.

* * *

Kikyo finished setting the wards about her camp, then checked her mount. The horse raised her head and eagerly accepted the chunks of sweet potato she'd saved from her pot, then returned to the main business of eating grass. Sighing, Kikyo returned to her tiny fire, checking the stew with the point of her chopstick. In many ways, she would have preferred to travel on foot. The horse would not give her that much advantage in speed, except in an emergency, given the time the mare needed to graze. Her movements were also far more limited—alone, she could cut through a forest, rather than be restricted to the roads or taking chances on a trail. 

But the overriding concern had been Inuyasha. Assuming he'd survived his night in the human form Kaede had described—and of that, she was certain—he would still be very weak. And whether Tsubaki had somehow figured out his responsibility in destroying the Shikon No Tama, or was merely using him to get at her, the dark priestess would not be kind. If everything went well, Inuyasha might be able to ride. More likely, she would need to fashion a drag-sled for the horse to pull.

If Tsubaki didn't manage to kill him.

Biting her lip, Kikyo straightened and pulled the bow and quiver off her back. Removing the bowstring, she wound it neatly and tucked it into a sleeve before seating herself. Opening one bag, she removed a small, narrow clay pot and a rag. Dampening the rag with the oil, she began to work on the bow, polishing the wood, and inspecting it for any signs of splits or other flaws. Her thoughts drifted back to that day when Tsubaki had attacked her. She had seen no need to kill that dark priestess, and had been uncomfortable at the very thought. She had accepted the necessity of killing the youkai who sought the jewel: their intent was never less than deadly, and hesitation would mean more than her own life. But to kill Tsubaki would have been different. A matter of choice, not of need, when the dark priestess was clearly injured and helpless from the backlash. To have chosen to kill at that moment—_I would have lost my ability to purify the jewel_, she thought to herself. And who knew what would have spun from that chosen path? Nothing good, and the jewel would not be gone.

With a sigh, she cast a last glance down the bow's gleaming length, before setting it down on the mat she had unrolled. Checking the pot again, she decided that the stew was finished, pulling it off the fire. Pouring the contents into a wooden bowl, she stirred the food with her chopsticks, waiting for it to cool. Brooding, she wondered what magic Tsubaki had used to get the hanyo and herself out of the village, and more than a day's walk away. Kaede had said Inuyasha had claimed that the shikigami had smelled of youkai. Had Tsubaki taken Onigumo's path? Surely not—Tsubaki surely must have heard at least as many tales as she had, during her training. Nor did such an act seem to fit with what she'd seen of Tsubaki's nature. But there were lesser bargains. Was Tsubaki that greedy—or desperate—for more power?

She had best make the assumption that Tsubaki _had_ made such a bargain, Kikyo decided, picking up the bowl. Which meant that the dark priestess would have more power to draw on than herself.

She was going to have to be very, very careful.


	10. Chapter 10: Hanyo Sleeping

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part X: Hanyo Sleeping**

Tsubaki was already regretting having invited the tanuki to tell stories. She had hoped additional clues about the hanyo's power might have been found in the stories, but she found herself quickly bored by the elaborate details Yukuuku was putting into the story. Who cared about the list of who each subsequent teller of the story had first heard it from? Or the painstaking details of the setting, down to the kind of stones in the nearby brook? It must be, she supposed, a tanuki form of story-telling. But at this rate, it must take all night to tell a single story.

"Please forgive my interruption," said the shikigami, as the tanuki paused for breath. Surprised and secretly relieved, Tsubaki looked over at him. He was still kneeling next to the motionless hanyo, his white face and black eyes emotionless as always. "The hanyo appears to be having trouble breathing."

"What!" Tsubaki was on her feet and moving before her thoughts caught up with her. She knelt next to the hanyo, searching for a pulse. "The poison isn't supposed to be fatal!"

"Is it because it is hanyo?" asked Kuroshin. "The poison works twice over, against its youkai and its human blood?"

Tsubaki shot her creation a sharp glance. Even with the first of her demonic bargains, she had not had the power to replace her snake shikigami with one as powerful, so she had chosen to create a puppet with as much cleverness as possible. But it had not, to this point, been apt to volunteer suggestions. "Perhaps." She glared back down at the hanyo, anger vying with frustration. "Get the potion for the antidote."

"At once, mistress."

The shikigami scrambled away. Tsubaki kept her fingers on the hanyo's pulse, fuming silently. Why was yet another thing going wrong? The poison would have worn off of itself in a day, which would have given her plenty of time to plan her revenge. But now she would be forced to spend more of her energy on saving the hanyo's life, for the potion alone would not be sufficient. And then she would have an awake hanyo who had already managed to somehow break two of her spells, which she would have to immediately subdue. A hanyo with more will and more power than she had counted on. And to think she had thought that keeping the hanyo subdued would be simple!

Simple--a thought occured to her. Looking up, she saw that the tanuki was had not moved from her position, though she had turned her head to watch, worry and apprehension evident in her eyes and the position of her ears. "Yukuuku," said Tsubaki, "do you have a tea that makes youkai drowsy?"

The tanuki's ears twitched upright in surprise, then wavered. "I have a tea used by my clan," she said slowly. "I do not know if it works on other youkai."

"It is worth a chance," said Tsubaki. "Can you make a pot now? Quickly?"

"Yes, mistress. You wish this?"

"As strong as you can make it, Yukuuku."

"Yes, mistress." The tanuki bowed, then scrambled to her feet and ran out the entrance. As she left, Kuroshin came in from the second entrance. He handed Tsubaki a small vial, the stopper already removed. Tsubaki sniffed to make sure it was the right potion, then handed it back to the shikigami. "Slowly pour this into its mouth when I tell you."

"Will it not choke?"

Shaking her head, Tsubaki closed her eyes, and began the spell. Winding youkai energy into the spell to strengthen it, she felt it settle into place in the hanyo's body. "Now, Kuroshin." The shikigami carefully dribbled the potion between the hanyo's parted lips. The spell pulsed faintly as the potion was absorbed directly into the body. Tsubaki waited tensely, her fingers still touching his neck, waiting for any indication that the potion was working. As silence reigned, she began to angrily wonder if the potion had been too late or too weak. Then, she realized that his breath had lengthened from the earlier gasps. His breathened quickened, and his pulse steadied. A flick of motion drew her attention to his ragged ears, which were twitching.

The dark priestess let out a silent sigh. Leaning a bit further forward, she removed her fingers from his neck, and pressed the tip of her index finger on his forehead. Whispering, she began a chant, drawing symbols over his skin. It was one of the simplest spells around, used by healing priestesses, and one of the first she had learned. "Go to sleep, little child. Listen to your mother's voice, be happy and at peace, go to sleep, go to sleep."

The golden eyes flicked open, glassy and dilated. "Mama?" the hanyo whispered. He sniffed audibly, a wrinkle forming between his brows. "Not ... mama..."

Holding her emotions firmly in check, Tsubaki repeated the chant, lowering her voice, her finger barely touching his skin. The hanyo blinked, several times, before the eyelids closed. He whimpered, the crease between his eyebrows deepening. "Mama ... mama's not here..." he whispered. "Mama's dead..."

"But you can still hear her voice in your head, can you not?" murmured Tsubaki with as gentle a voice as she could manage, starting a third repetition of the tracing on his skin. "Listen to her voice, little one. She wants you to be happy. She wants you to sleep. Go to sleep..."

He whimpered again, but slowly, the wrinkle began to smooth out. "Mama?"

"Sleep," she breathed. "Go to sleep, little one."

"Mama ..." The word was breathed out in a long sigh as his face and ears relaxed. Tsubaki waited, but his breath remained even, and if anything, his ears drooped even more. Slowly, the dark priestess began to relax. She sighed a little as her own fatigue made itself known. The white-furred ear closest to her twitched at the sound, swiveling, then slowly drifting back to its former relaxed position. Tsubaki studied it a moment, before reaching out to lightly grasp the appendage. The fur was incredibly silky. She examined the ragged ends of the ear, which was still split into half a dozen tags. The ear began to twitch, trying to pull away from her fingers. Ignoring the attempted motion, she bent the end of the ear back, testing the stiffness of the cartilage. The efforts of the ear to release itself grew more frantic. Tsubaki let go, and then scratched gently at the ear's base. It twitched, then relaxed, and a very faint rumble whispered from the hanyo's throat as he shifted his head minutely, to move closer to the fingers.

Tsubaki smirked. "You are a puppy," she whispered, leaning over to deliver a brief scratch to the other ear. "Puppy ears, and a puppy nose. Maybe I should find a spell to turn you completely into a puppy? A little white dog with big golden eyes—I wonder what Kikyo would think of that?" She returned to scratching the closer ear.

"M-mistress?"

Tsubaki started, snatching her hand back. Turning her head, she saw Yukuuku standing in the entrance, an earthenware pot clutched in her hands. "Pour a cup and bring it here, please?" The tanuki gulped and nodded. "Don't worry," Tsubaki added. "The hanyo is asleep; he doesn't even know you're here." Which, on one level wasn't true, as she very well knew, having noticed how the one ear was clearly aimed at the tanuki. But he was hardly in a state where he could act on what his senses were telling him, so the lie was simpler than the truth.

Keeping at least half her attention on the hanyo, despite Tsubaki's reassurance, the tanuki edged over to the low table that held several cups. Pouring the dark liquid into one cup, she set the pot down on the table before advancing towards the seated human. As soon as Tsubaki took hold of the cup, she retreated. Hiding her amusement over the youkai's fear, Tsubaki sniffed the tea, and then touched her tongue to the liquid. Considering a long moment, she nodded to herself. One herb she recognized as a strong soporific for humans. She wasn't sure of all the other scents, but there was nothing in there that was inimical to human blood. Whispering a small spell of illusion to hide the taste and the smell, she used her free hand to slide under the hanyo's neck and raise his head.

"Drink this, little one," she said, putting a bit of power behind her words. "You are thirsty. Very thirsty." His face scrunched up a little, and he sniffed audibly. "It's only water," she told him. "You need to drink." He sniffed again, before obediently opening his mouth. The cup went quickly, and Tusbaki was smiling a little as she let his head down. Yukuuku was gawking, which increased her feeling of amusement. She gave into the temptation, and let her hand start scratching behind his ear again. The tanuki's eyes widened, and she gulped.

"Is there a problem, Yukuuku?" she asked.

"N-no, mistress, oh no! I-I j-just, I n-never i-imagined s-such a t-terrible h-hanyo l-letting you p-pet it! As if, as if it were a tame dog!"

Tsubaki chuckled. "Oh, I'm sure he would be reacting differently if he were awake. My powers are good for something, after all. Now, why don't you leave the pot here, and go get my meal. Kuroshin will take the hanyo to the other room and make sure he stays asleep. I will have one of your excellent meals, and then, tomorrow, I'll start breaking this hanyo so I can do this while he's awake. And won't that be interesting to watch?"

The tanuki's went wider, if possible, and she shrank back. "I-if you s-say so, m-m-mistress," she stammered. "I-I will go g-get your s-supper." Bowing quickly, she didn't quite run from the room.

Tsubaki smirked and looked back down at the hanyo, who was again responding to her ear-scratching. "Yes, I think we'll start with that," she told the sleeping hanyo. "You're going to be my little puppy dog, and when I'm finished, you're going to beg for these little treats. Aren't you?"

The hanyo, asleep, said nothing.


	11. Chapter 11: Priestesses Awake

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XI: Priestesses Awake**

Tsubaki sat straight up, sweating and panting, the cover falling down about her waist. Hand shaking, she touched her lips, feeling her heart pounding, feeling her entire body aroused by her dream. Damn that hanyo! How could he do this to her! He was not a handsome, powerful daimyo that had been her imagined lover, back in those days when she'd been a naive child believing her nurse's stories. He was an abomination; an ugly, disgusting display of his mother's utter, complete lack of self-respect. A woman should kill herself before birthing a monster like that, even as she should kill herself before bearing a rapist's child. The mere sight of those ears, those eyes should have filled her with revulsion.

Yet they hadn't, and didn't. Her very mind had turned against her, dreaming, conjuring him in his human form, wooing her, and when she had turned him down, transforming him into his silver-haired, golden-eyed hanyo self, blazing with power and beauty. She had flung herself on him, begging him to take her, wanting nothing but those hands, those lips, every magnificent piece of him to claim her and take her—

And in the dream, he had laughed. His golden eyes became mirrors, and she beheld herself—

A wrinkled, hideous, half-bald hag.

Tsubaki touched the smooth skin of her face, before running her fingers down the long, loose braid of hair. She was not a hag! Not now, not ever! She would be young forever, beautiful forever, unlike her mother, withering from illness and one miscarriage after another, dying in a final abortive attempt to birth the son that was all—and everything—her husband had wanted her for.

Tsubaki clenched her hands. She didn't want to think about her mother. Or her father. Or her childhood. None of that mattered. All that mattered was the power she had and might obtain. The power to do as she pleased. The power to remain young and beautiful—and untouchable by the grubby hands and stinking bodies of men who could never possibly understand her, or be worthy of her.

Knowing that she was not going to get back to sleep in her current frame of mind, Tsubaki got up, wrapping a heavier robe about her lightweight sleeping garment. She called a small spell-light into existence to light her path as she slid back the door separating her sleeping room from her workroom. Lighting a small brazier, she set a pot of water over it to heat.

"Mistress?" Kuroshin peeked through the other interior door. Looking around, Tsubaki gave him a frown.

"What is it, Kuroshin?" she asked. "The hanyo?"

"The hanyo sleeps deeply, mistress," he assured her. "I gave him a second cup of tea when he seemed restless, and scratched his ears as you did. He seemed to be having a good dream awhile ago; he was smiling."

"How nice for him," said Tsubaki sourly, wishing she hadn't forgotten that Kuroshin, unless specifically instructed, tended to be a mimic. "But that does not seem worth my attention at this early hour."

"Ah, no." Kuroshin bowed. "This one begs forgiveness, Lady Tsubaki, for speaking of unimportant matters. This one does have a concern—it has sensed that the hanyo's aura has changed. It wonders if the mistress should not look upon the hanyo in person."

"Changed?" Tsubaki rocked onto her toes and stood up. "Changed how?"

"It seems … stronger, mistress."

"It is recovering from a nearly-fatal injury," she noted, walking towards the door.

"This is true, mistress."

But the very fact that he did not admit an error warned Tsubaki. Nevertheless, as she stepped across the threshold into the other room, she stiffened. Even without looking at the sleeping hanyo, his youkai energy was palpable.

Astonished, she stared at him, letting her eyes slide out of focus as she concentrated on the plane of energy and magic. Youki—the energy of youkai blood—glittered about the limp body that was curled up on its side. She no longer wondered how a mere hanyo youth could have taken on even one ogre and won, let alone two. His youki-enhanced strength would defeat many, if not most, youkai.

His human aura was stronger as well. In fact, the two parts of his aura were intricately interwoven, making it almost impossible to tell the two apart unless one 'looked' closely or was very sensitive. The interwoven nature of the auras was something she had tried, and so far, failed miserably at, in trying to blend her own human-based spiritual powers and the borrowed youkai power. Human and youkai energies did not really blend, she had discovered.

Except that they did. In this hanyo. That she had not noticed it before must have been due to his human night, when his youkai blood left him, or to his injury-weakened state, or both.

She dug her nails into her palms against a surge of envy. This was what she wanted, this blend of youkai and human, this balance between powers. She willed herself into a light trance, concentrating on studying every detail of the mingled aura, to figure out how it formed, what controlled the merged energies.

She failed. The auras were merged at the very lowest level of his being, far beyond her ability to scan. Nothing she sensed told her how she might replicate such joining. It seemed that one had to be born hanyo.

But there was one oddity, she noticed, as she started to pull out of the trance. There was a balance between youkai and human, and yet—there was not. The youkai energy felt as if it were set to flame higher, to be more powerful than the human blood it mingled with and supported. Yet it felt constrained, somehow. Limited.

Limited. Opening her eyes, Tsubaki studied the sleeping hanyo by the light of her spell. The hanyo was sniffing and growling a little, until Kuroshin knelt by it and began stroking its ears. It sighed and relaxed, ears drooping. She let her lips twist briefly, annoyed and amused both by the indication that the ear-scratching must have unintentionally have become the keystone connecting her spell and the youkai tea. Looking closer, she noticed that the short hair on top of his head was visibly longer than the night before, and that his ears looked somewhat less ragged. His youkai blood was speeding his healing, no doubt.

She sighed, suddenly tired. "Thank-you for warning me of this, Kuroshin," she said, rubbing her forehead. "Please try to keep the hanyo asleep as long as possible—he will be more difficult to subdue than I thought, with this strength. I need to rethink my plans a bit—and get more sleep myself, if I can."

He half-bowed from his seated location. "This one will do his best, Lady Tsubaki. There are several cups of the tea left, and it is still steeping. And the hanyo is quieter when I stroke its ears."

At least the shikigami did not need sleep like she and the hanyo did. "Do what you must, Kuroshin. If you can keep it under until mid-day, at least, I may be ready."

"I wait your word, my lady."

She smiled politely at him, nodded, and left the room.

And hoped that he would not have to wait too long.

* * *

Kikyo had trained herself to awaken quickly. But this morning, her thoughts and body were sluggish. When she finally managed to force her bleary eyes open, she saw to her dismay that the sun was already well up over the horizon. The horse whickered as she sat up, and walked towards her as much as the lead rope would allow. Throwing her blanket back, Kikyo scrambled to her feet and went to the mare.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, giving its chin a gentle scratch. "You must be thirsty." Untying the rope, she made her way to the stream she used the night before. The mare pulled against her halter eagerly, plunging her nose into the water as soon as they reached the bank. Moving a bit upstream of the mare, Kikyo splashed her face, then cupped her hands and drank as well.

Returning to her camp, Kikyo retied the mare at a different location, before examining the camp with her inner senses. There was nothing to suggest a sleeping spell, or any other power, other than the faint aura around the bag that contained the strip of cloth she was using for her locator spell—and an even fainter aura around the bag containing Inuyasha's clothing.

Which she had used for a pillow.

Frowning, Kikyo unburied her pot of rice she'd left to cook overnight, and rekindled the fire from the banked embers. Going back to the stream to fill her teapot and refill her waterbags, she set that pot above the flame. Folding the rumpled blanket, she restrung her bow, and then seated herself, pulling the bag to her. Unfastening the leather bag, she touched the fire-rat material, but did not attempt to remove it.

The sense of youki was partly that of fire-rat, and partly Inuyasha. Was this the source of her sleepiness, she wondered? Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the feeling of the material under her fingers, and on Inuyasha. How was he? What was he feeling?

Her eyes began to ache with tiredness, and her head tilted forward. She yanked her hand away from the robes, and the sensation vanished. Inuyasha was still asleep? Kikyo glanced at the sun. She couldn't imagine the hanyo being asleep after sunrise, under normal conditions.

Which, of course, this wasn't. Narrowing her eyes in thought, Kikyo considered matters, then touched a single finger to the material. Carefully, she let her awareness wrap around the fire-rat robe, asking the question; was Inuyasha's sleep normal, or was he being kept under?

Something that sounded like Inuyasha's growl of frustration, very faint, seemed to come to her. It rose in intensity, and then fell silent, subdued, dragged down against its will. Something tickled, and a sour taste came to her mouth.

So. Drugged and bespelled both, Kikyo decided. Is Inuyasha in pain?

She received nothing but the faint susurration of sleep-numbed frustration. Opening her eyes, Kikyo fastened the bag, thoughtful. Knowing that Inuyasha was alive and apparently unharmed was a relief—assuming it was not an illusion Tsubaki was somehow creating. She doubted that—Tsubaki had never, to her knowledge, met Inuyasha before she had kidnapped him. Even if she had known about Inuyasha's normal clothing, how could she have known that Kikyo would have them with her?

No, she decided. This tie between her and Inuyasha was real. The question was, could she find a way to use this tie? Was there some way that she could use the link to communicate with him? To give him assurance and hope, at the least, and at best, be able to work together to defeat the dark priestess? If he were able to distract Tsubaki at the right moment, she might have a much better chance of defeating the dark priestess.

Kikyo set the bag aside. She turned her attention to the fire, and her thoughts were busy.


	12. Chapter 12: Kuroshin

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XII: Kuroshin**

His body did not want to wake up. He growled, trying to clench his hands, his youkai instincts shrieking that something was seriously wrong. But his eyes would not open, his body would not stir, and a heavy blanket seemed to envelope him and suffocate him. It wanted him to sleep. Sleep forever.

No! He snarled, angry, feeling a whisper of fire running through him. He would not sleep! He urged the fire to become hotter, to burn through the suffocating blanket. It responded, and he shivered as the fire burned in his veins, growling in what was somehow a mixture of pain and ecstasy. Wake! Wake! Wake!

His eyes were open; he was on his side, staring at a mat-covered floor and a plain paper wall. The palms of his hands hurt. He raised one hand to his face and discovered it was clenched in a tight fist. Blood dripped. Blinking a little, he opened his hand. His claws looked longer than normal. That didn't make sense. He arched his fingers, cracking his knuckles, then clenched and unclenched his hand several times. He examined his fingers again, and decided he was still half asleep. Of course his claws weren't longer.

Rolling onto his back, Inuyasha groaned. His head hurt, his mouth tasted absolutely foul, and his stomach—

He barely managed to get to all fours before his stomach tried to eject itself through his mouth. The paroxysm was brief, but left Inuyasha panting, head hanging, half-dazed and waiting for anything to feel right again.

Footsteps behind him kicked him out of the daze. One ear pivoted. The odd combination of youkai and ink and paper came to his nose, and his body reacted before his thoughts. Ears snapping back, he growled, tensing, his feet shifting so that his toes were pressed against the floor.

The footsteps came to a halt. "Please do not attempt to attack me," said the shikigami. "I am shielded against your attack. It is also fact that I am not here to hurt you."

Inuyasha hesitated, but his throbbing head and his queasy stomach made him reluctant to start something he wasn't sure he could finish. Especially when he was on all fours, with his opponent behind him. Backing up from the small puddle of liquid stench, Inuyasha pivoted and sat down cross-legged on the edge of the futon, noting absently that at least this time, they hadn't stripped him completely naked. Ears half-back, he looked at the shikigami.

Kuroshin bowed. "I wish to apologize for your illness. It was necessary to give you a potion to counteract the poison, and then it was also required to keep you asleep while the mistress recovered. The herbal tea was intended for youkai, and while it was effective, in combination with the mistress' spell, I feared that it might also make you ill." He raised the bowl he was holding. "This will ease the distress of your stomach."

"Keh—why should I accept anything from you?" Inuyasha snorted, folding his arms across his chest. "It's probably got a spell on it."

"It does not. I made this myself; my mistress is otherwise occupied, and left your care to me."

"And I should believe you?"

"The mistress did not create the ability to lie, in me."

Inuyasha stared at the small puppet. It was totally unreadable. If it had emotions, it did not give out any scent related to emotions, and the white face was inhumanly calm. His ears twitched as he sniffed, trying to make out the contents of the bowl by odor. He smelled chicken broth and herbs. Eyes narrowing a bit, he tried to identify them and their uses. Fearing that he would end up on his own, his mother had taught him as much about herbal lore as she had been able to get him to learn—which hadn't always been much, to his later regret. He'd learned more on his own, though until he'd asked Kikyo one time, he hadn't known the names of everything he'd figured out to use.

"The broth contains salt, ginger and chamomile," said Kuroshin.

Safe enough, if the shikigami was telling the truth. "Why?"

"Pardon?"

"Why make something to help me? I am a captive of your mistress; she intends to kill me."

"That is true," admitted Kuroshin with his unnatural calmness. "But I was created to serve. The mistress has not given specific orders on how I care for you. Unless she tells me otherwise, if I see a need that you have, it is my—desire, one might say—to serve that need."

Inuyasha scowled at him, ears flattening a trifle more. He didn't like this. He was a prisoner, so why wasn't he being treated as one? He expected torture and pain, not this polite—_thing—_who was trying to do him good for no reason.

He wanted to throw the bowl in the shikigami's face. He wanted to snarl defiance and throw his claws at the thing, shield or no shield. But the new, annoyingly cautious part of him seemed to still be in charge. Moreover, his mouth was watering, and the lingering nausea was not hiding the awareness that he was both hungry and thirsty.

Inuyasha sighed, and forced himself to be polite. "Thank-you," he said stiffly, unfolding his arms. Kuroshin walked forward, with no apparent concern for a sneak attack, and held out the bowl. Accepting, the hanyo took a single swallow, keeping his eyes fixed on the shikigami. It tasted a bit odd, thanks to the herbs, but his body clamored for more. He refused it, trying to remember how long it had taken for disaster to strike after he had stupidly gulped down that bowl of stew some days before. Nothing seemed to happen, save for a slight warmness in his belly, so he took a second swallow. The third swallow followed at a shorter interval. At the fourth, craving overtook caution, and he downed the remaining contents in one breath.

Kuroshin took back the bowl. "When you feel ready, I will show you where you may clean up. I have provided fresh robes for you."

Inuyasha rubbed an itch behind one ear. "You keep talking like I'm a guest, not a prisoner," he growled. "What if I try to escape?"

"My mistress has prepared a collar. If you come into contact with any of her barriers, or if you attack her or myself, the collar will appear around your neck and punish you."

Inuyasha stiffened. His ears went flat and he snarled, lurching to a crouched position, claws digging into the tatami mat. "I – am – not – a – dog!" he spat.

"True. You are a hanyo," said the shikigami. "But as with many creatures, your neck is vulnerable, is it not? My mistress has perceived that you are much more dangerous than she originally thought. She did not explain, but to me, it is only logical, that she seeks to control you with such an item."

Inuyasha glowered at him, growling, struggling to get his outrage under control. The shikigami might understand and believe his 'logic,' but the hanyo knew better. He had not forgotten what the witch had called him. She wasn't the first human to look at his ears and call him 'dog' or 'puppy,' which he hated being called worse than being called 'hanyo.' He remembered how she'd looked at him yesterday when he'd first woken up, how she'd mocked him. His claws ripped through the mat, as he flexed his fingers, continuing to growl. He was no one's 'puppy', no one's 'dog', and anyone who tried to put a collar on him was going to get a handful of claws in his or her face!

"Please do not damage the mats, hanyo-san."

Inuyasha blinked, his hands going still. Startled by such a nonsensical request, he stared at the shikigami. "Who the fuck cares about a few mats?" he demanded. "That witch wants to put a dog collar on me, wants to kill me, and you want me to be worried about a stupid mat?"

"She is a dark priestess, not a witch. Please refer to her properly." The shikigami tilted his head to one side. "Why do you indulge in rude language? Does it not make it more difficult to obtain what is needed?"

Inuyasha blinked again, taken aback by the strange entity. Easing his weight back, his hands relaxed unconsciously. "Why should I bother to be polite, when nearly everyone I meet wants to kill me? Including your mistress."

The shikigami hesitated. "Why does everyone want to kill you? Does everyone want to kill you? Is that truly fact?"

He opened his mouth, then shut it. "Almost everyone," Inuyasha grudgingly acknowledged, looking away. "Everyone else runs away in fear—well, most run away." His ears and shoulders sagged as he remembered Korana. "A few … don't," he whispered. Something in him lurched a little, and he wondered, with a pang, if he'd ever get to see her again.

"But, why do people fear or hate you?" asked the insistent shikigami. "What have you done, to make people react so?"

Inuyasha gave him a sour look. "I exist, that's all. I'm hanyo."

"Merely because you exist, people hate and kill you? Why is that? I understand that a hanyo is the offspring of a youkai and a mortal mating—that is sufficient to cause hatred and fear? I do not understand."

"What the hell are you, that you don't know about hanyos?" demanded Inuyasha, when he finally was able to get over the incomprehensible idea that someone didn't know.

"I am a shikigami, created by Tsubaki to serve her. I was made to be independent of her direct control, yet loyal to her; I was made to speak truth, and to seek for truth, that I can better serve her. The knowledge I was created with includes what hanyos are, but not why they come to be, or that they are something to be hated or feared. I wish to be informed."

Inuyasha fidgeted. "Look, everyone thinks hanyos are abominations and ought to be killed; if you think you're stronger than the hanyo, you try to kill it, if you're not, you run away thinking it's going to kill you. That's all. Now, could we—could you show me where I'm supposed to go?"

"Forgive me, this matter is uncomfortable for you. If you will follow me?"

Inuyasha scrambled to his feet with a sense of relief. The little man was just about the most confusing person he had ever met, and he'd rather do almost anything than continue the weird conversation.

* * *

Four rings nestled inside one larger ring, sitting atop a densely written piece of paper, which lay upon the altar. Each ring was black, with barely visible sutras written within and without. At the top of the spell sheet was a paper cutout, on which was written another sutra, in blood. The cutout was two pieces glued together: between those pieces, neatly coiled, was a single, silver hair. It leaned against a stand that held the silver hilt of a thin, double-edged knife. It was a very strange knife, for half of it was made of pale, pink quartz crystal, while the other half was black obsidian. Both edges were razor sharp. At the tip of the knife, the two materials spiraled together, as if they been melted and drawn out with a glassmaker's skill, until they merged into a pinkish-gray tip that was sharper than any needle.

Tsubaki eyed the arrangement with satisfaction. She had labored over the rings for most of the day, infusing much of her own spiritual power into the rings and the spells. Even a taiyoukai would have trouble with those spells, of that, she was certain. The half-breed would never be able to break them. Though she hadn't specifically asked him to, Kuroshin had managed to keep the hanyo from losing his temper and attacking, which had given her time to add more power and protection to the spells.

The smell of roasted chicken wafted through the house. Tsubaki smiled. The hanyo must be starving by now, despite the broth that Kuroshin had so thoughtfully provided. She would be generous. She would show him the advantages of cooperating with her.

"Kuroshin," she murmured. "The hanyo?"

_Sitting on the west porch, watching the sunset,_ the shikigami replied. There was a moment of hesitation, and then he continued. _Mistress…if the hanyo is an abomination, as you say, then why did it use the Shikon No Tama to save the lives of those villagers? Why did it not simply try to save itself? If the hanyo is by nature so vile, so evil, that it does not deserve to live, then where did it find the selflessness to wish for the lives of others, before its own?_

Tsubaki stiffened. Kuroshin had asked her about hanyos a bit earlier; she had given him the response she had learned as a child. Hanyos were vile, disgusting results of shameful coupling between youkai and mortal; there was nothing of good in them, and they should be killed wherever they were found.

"Who can understand a hanyo?" she said finally. "It probably had some nasty plans for those people, and didn't want to lose them."

_That does not make sense, mistress, _came the shikigami's reply. _The hanyo was horribly injured, according to the villagers. If it were evil, why would it not have used the power for itself, for healing and strength?_

"Why don't you ask it, if you want to know?" she snapped, exasperated. She had designed Kuroshin's curiosity into him, and it had already served her well on several occasions, but his need to know could be so annoying at times.

She regretted making the suggestion almost as soon as she made it. A lower murmur of voices came from the porch. _The hanyo says he wanted them to live, because it wasn't right, that a monster killed them simply to make the Shikon No Tama more evil._

_That_ sounded like something Kikyo would say, Tsubaki thought sourly. No wonder she had fallen for the hanyo. Self-sacrificing idiots, the both of them.

_Mistress … I think you should let the hanyo go._

Tsubaki's eyes went wide. "What?" she exclaimed. "Why should I?"

_Your power may not be enough to hold him_._ I have been watching him. His aura is stronger than even this morning. When he is angered, his youki grows. You indicated that you sensed his youki was constrained, somehow. What if, at some point, he is able to surpass this limitation, and call on the full strength of his father's taiyoukai blood? He might find the strength to shatter your spells. He might kill you._

Acting out of impatience and greed, she had attacked Kikyo directly, rather than waiting for her earlier curse to work. Because of that, she had nearly died in the backlash. Experimenting with the power she had obtained from the first youkai she had bargained with, she had created a shikigami that would be useful less as an attacker, than as a servant and adviser. She had remembered the bored, young girl who had spied on her father many times as he had sat in council with his samurai. She had remembered how he had always seemed to turn to one particular man for advice; and how that man had, at times, flatly disputed with his overlord. From her own experience, she had expected him to knock down and berate his subordinate, but he hadn't. And she had remembered his explanation, he had given his visiting nephew once: "People who always agree with you will give you bad advice, sooner or late. Isao has never wavered in loyalty to me, but he speaks to truth, and does not fear to confront me. Such a man is more precious than gold, youngster."

She had striven to create such an adviser. She thought she had succeeded fairly well—he had disagreed with her course of action a few times, and at least once, her corrected action had clearly been superior. So she should consider his warning.

Her hands curled into fists as she stared at the altar. She _wanted_ the hanyo quivering at her feet, whimpering. She wanted that piece of filth that her body was so attracted to broken and bloody, reduced to ugliness and powerlessness. If she let him go, healed and strong, how many times would that dream repeat? How many times over the next days, moons, years, would she find herself falling into a reverie about those those eyes, those hands, that long, silky fall of hair?

"I need its power," she told the shikigami.

_You have been obtaining power from the youkai you bargain with,_ he pointed out. _You can continue to gain strength from them, can you not?_

"At the price of my soul," she reminded him. "And not nearly as much power as it has. If I can drain it, learn the secret of how its human and youkai powers are merged, I'll gain more from it in a day, than from years of bargaining with youkai."

_But is the gain worth the risk? The miko Kikyo is searching for him, is she not? What if she finds this place, before you have gained his power? She has defeated you before. With much of your power tied into controlling the hanyo, will she not be able to defeat you again?_

"She's already taken my bait, and is searching the wrong direction," she told him. "I have no intention of letting her find me until the hanyo is mine: at the worst, I will use my youkai and move us to a difference location before she can find us."

_That should suffice, as long as you do not lose track of her,_ Kuroshin acknowledged. _But how well are you prepared for further surprises from the hanyo? You first told me, that hanyo are weak. He is not. You told me he is abomination. Yet his actions with the Shikon No Tama contradict that description. Hanyos are rare. Have you handled another hanyo? Have you encountered a hanyo with a taiyoukai parent?_

Tsubaki shifted her position slightly, uncomfortable. "No," she replied reluctantly. "I have never encountered a hanyo before this one."

_And you have no knowledge of hanyos that is unquestionably true._

"No." She looked down at her hands, unhappily realizing where Kuroshin was going. And worse, that she could not deny the soundness of his suggestion. It would be safer, far safer, to give up her plans, at least until she had learned everything to be known about his kind, and until she had, for certain, the strength to keep him under control.

_Then, I believe that the risk is greater than the gain, mistress. Let the hanyo go. Or, at the least, kill him quickly._

"No."

_Why not? Is his power truly worth risking your life? Is your desire for vengeance, for losing the Shikon No Tama, worth the risk?_

She stared at the knife, realizing at that moment that she should have made Kuroshin female. His 'maleness' might be in physical form only, but it was enough. She could not tell him about her dream. About her reaction to the hanyo's physical presence. About why she needed to not kill him, but destroy him. It.

"I've made up my mind, Kuroshin."

_But, mistress—_

"The discussion is over, Kuroshin."

_Very well, mistress._

The knife wavered in her inner vision, wreathed in a paired aura that was half spiritual power, half youki. They spiraled about each other, but did not merge. That would change, she promised herself. The hanyo's power would be hers, one way or the other. Placing one hand above the rings, she sensed the coiled power within them, waiting for the right word or action. She smiled, but without humor.

The battle was about to begin.


	13. Chapter 13: Collar

**Author's Note: **Apologies for re-uploading this chapter, but the original ending just was not letting the story move on. Chapter 14 is about complete, and should be up in a few days, once the initial scenes of chapter 15 are are sketched out.

* * *

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part 13: Collar**

Listening to the dark priestess' one-sided conversation was more interesting than listening to his own thoughts. Leaning back and supporting himself with his hands, Inuyasha pretended to watch the sun sinking below the trees, one ear cocked backwards towards the woman's voice.

He wondered what she thought of the answer he gave to the shikigami, when he asked why he had chosen to save the villagers with the Shikon No Tama. There had been a rather long silence after his answer, and her next response had no apparent connection.

Her comment about someone 'taking the bait' made him stiffen, both ears snapping around to point towards the voice. Surely, she was talking about Kikyo! He had to force himself to relax. 'Bait' might mean a trap, he argued against his sudden fear for Kikyo, but the rest of what the dark priestess had said suggested that she was merely trying to keep Kikyo from finding them. And how could he argue with that? He'd much rather find a way to free himself, than to have Kikyo risking her life in an attempt to rescue him.

But that led back to the questions he'd been trying not to think of. Why hadn't he done more to try to escape? Why had he even tried to fight down his temper, when she taunted him? When the shikigami told him of how she intended to control him? A collar! A dog collar! He knew he still wasn't up to his full strength, but when had that ever stopped him? The threat of the collar made him want to rip his claws through that creature's neck, promise to mother or not.

His torso ached. With the slightest bit of a wince, Inuyasha leaned forward and buried his head on his knees, not caring if he looked weak or tired. He silently cursed the woman for her interference. He would have been entirely content to spend another quarter-moon or two being 'coddled' by Kikyo. He wanted—just to be with her. To watch her. To listen to her. Just to hold her hand. Or sleep with his head in her lap—

"Hanyo-san, the miko-sama wishes you to come inside."

"The name is Inuyasha." Sitting up, Inuyasha glanced at the tree line, noticing the sun was entirely behind them.

"Ah. My apologies, Inuyasha-san. If you will come?"

He still wasn't ready to directly fight her. Standing up, Inuyasha turned and stepped up onto the porch, moving towards the door that the shikigami slid aside. Once inside, he toed off the sandals before stepping onto the floor mats. The dark priestess, he noted, was once again, already kneeling at her position. This time, however, her low table was not covered with paper and writing tools. Rather, it, and the second table were each holding several bowls of food.

The smell of food reminded him that it had been very long time since his last decent meal. Trying to ignore that reminder, Inuyasha kept his attention on the dark priestess. She was watching him with a slight smirk. With an internal grumble, Inuyasha steeled himself and gave her a slight bow. "You wished to see me, miko-san?"

There was a glint in her eyes, and below the strong odors of the food, lay her subtler scent, which was currently a mixture of lust and amusement. Her smirk widened. "Well, who knew that the puppy could know enough to try and be polite?"

His ears tried to flatten. Folding his arms and sliding his hands inside the sleeves of his kimono, Inuyasha met her look coldly, trying to guess how his maternal grandfather would have reacted. "You indicated that you preferred politeness, miko-san," he replied as coolly as he could manage. "Perhaps it is something no longer desired?"

She gave him a startled look, then inclined her head. "Politeness is desired, hanyo-san; it is merely surprising to see it attempted by a mere—half-human."

His ears tried to flatten again. Annoyed, and not able to think of a good reply, Inuyasha chose to remain silent, trying to mimic his brother's usual expression of cold disinterest.

She broke their staring match first, giving a flick of her hand and a patently unfelt laugh. "Oh, don't stand around looking offended, hanyo-san. Please be seated—I'm sure you are hungry—and Yukuuku is too good a cook, to let her food grow cold.

"Thank-you, miko-san." Inuyasha walked over to the other place and knelt. He examined the food before him, quickly sorting through the scents. There was no suggestion of poison, nor could he sense any hint of power, youkai or human. Still—

"You do not need to be afraid to eat, hanyo-san," said Tsubaki, amusement in her voice. "I would never tamper with the tanuki's excellent food."

The glare escaped his control, and she responded with a smirk. She picked up her chopsticks. "Please feel free to eat as you desire, hanyo-san. I quite understand if you never learned to eat in proper human fashion."

Which meant, of course, that he to prove her wrong. Picking up the chopsticks, he fiddled with them for long moments before they felt right. He had learned to use chopsticks as a child, of course. But as an outcast and frequently hunted hanyo, he rarely felt safe enough to risk a fire and the time to cook, and even then, 'cooking' was usually limited to roasted meat skewered on green branches, and roots baked in the ashes. The only time he could remember using chopsticks in years was that one time last winter, after he had helped Kikyo slay a demon. By the time they had returned to her village, it was snowing heavily, and he had given in without much argument to her insistence that he stay at least long enough to have a hot meal.

But at least that meal had been a simple stew. This was closer to the kind of meals that he vaguely recalled had been served at his grandfather's table. Not that he'd ever eaten in the presence of his mother's father: at best, the disgraced daughter of a daimyo and her never-mentioned child ate behind a screen; more typically, they ate alone in her quarters.

With an internal sigh, Inuyasha used his chopsticks to pick up a piece of food that looked like a piece of fish wrapped around rice. It was, and he chewed slowly, acutely aware of his still uncertain stomach. At least a certain memory was too fresh, to be tempted into the habit of eating as fast as he could. Unlike that meal the winter before, when he'd looked up from his empty bowl of stew to see two faces staring at him with expressions of shock and dismay. His face had turned so red…

* * *

Having decided to be lenient to her prisoner meant that she could concentrate on enjoying her own meal, which was, as usual when Yukuuku cooked, delicious. However, it was both amusing and disappointing to note that the hanyo was not only trying to eat mannerly, but that he was also largely succeeding. He clearly had no sense for the order in which the food should be consumed, but he was eating neatly, if rather slowly. He set down his chopsticks moments before she did, leaning back and putting his hands back in his sleeves, half-lidded eyes focused on a spot on the floor halfway between them. 

Yukuuku quickly appeared when Tsubaki summoned her. She quickly cleaned off Tsubaki's table. But turning to go to the other table, she froze. "M-m-mistress, p-please, c-can I l-leave the other t-table for l-later?" she whimpered. "I-I—"

"I'm not going to attack you, tanuki-san," interrupted the hanyo. He gave an audible sniff. "You couldn't hurt me if you tried."

"Oh!" Yukuuku froze, expression startled. "I-I-oh." Her ears sank and she seemed to shrink in on herself. "I—"

"Feh." The hanyo rose smoothly to his feet. "Tell your story-makers that Inuyasha only goes after those who are trying to kill him. Leave me alone; I'll leave you alone."

"Oh! Yes, Inuyasha-sama!" she said with a quick bow. "I will tell them! I will!"

The hanyo snorted and jerked his head in a nod, then turned and walked towards the exit. Kuroshin moved to block him. The hanyo came to a halt. Neither said a word. Tsubaki saw the hanyo's ears rotate to point backwards.

"Please finish your work, Yukuuku-san," she said to the tanuki. The youkai started a little, then quickly moved to the second table and started removing bowls. Hands full, she skittered out of the room as quickly as her legs could move her rotund body.

"I suggest you return to your pad, hanyo-san," said Tsubaki, when the tanuki had disappeared. "I am not finished with you yet."

The ragged white ears twitched. "I'd much rather go sleep off Yukuuku-san's excellent meal, miko-san."

"And I will remind you that you are my prisoner, hanyo," she retorted coldly, dropping the honorific.

The ears flattened momentarily, before resuming their restless movements. Tsubaki was beginning to think that the hanyo was going to refuse, when he finally turned around. Silently, without a sound, he returned to the pad and knelt, his hands not leaving his sleeves, and his back not deviating from the vertical. She found herself admiring the strength and grace of his moves, as well as the flow of white hair against the lighter blue, simpler kimono and hakama he was wearing this evening. The hair on top of his head, she noticed, had grown noticeably from last night, becoming long enough to start curling down towards his forehead.

She caught herself up, mentally shaking herself. The attractiveness of the creature before her meant nothing. She had plans for the hanyo, and no pretty hair or bright eyes would change it.

"I have a proposal, hanyo. I suggest you consider it well, before you refuse."

The hanyo snorted but made no other reply. His eyes, slightly narrowed, watched her with an intensity that made her skin want to itch. She gave him a smirk, and rose to her feet. Moving one hand into the opposite sleeve, she pulled out the largest of the black rings out. Balancing it on two fingers, she started to saunter in an arc towards the hanyo.

He reacted immediately. His ears went flat, and he pulled his hands out of his sleeves, knuckles cracking as he arched his fingers.

_Mistress…_

She stopped and turned away, but not so much that the hanyo couldn't see the ring. Using both hands, she pretended to examine it. "You destroyed the Shikon No Tama, which should have been mine," she told him. "You also brought back to life the miko I had cursed. You wasted the jewel's power on a handful of worthless villagers. I fully intended to make you suffer for that, and then I was going to kill you in front of that self-righteous prig of a Kikyo."

A faint growl responded to her. "You mean you were going to try to kill me."

She shrugged. "If it makes you feel better to think that…" she said dismissively. She turned the ring slowly, then put it back in her pocket. "However." She turned and gave him an artificial smile. "I've had a better idea."

He glowered at her. Smirking, she started to walk towards him again. "What I want, hanyo, is power. Power to ensure eternal youth, and eternal beauty. The Shikon No Tama would have given me that."

"Keh." The hanyo's voice was derisive. "The jewel would have turned you into a hideous monster before you could scream."

"Oh, really? You think because you accidentally destroyed it, you are somehow an expert?" she sneered.

He turned his head to meet her eyes directly. Darkened gold eyes stared at her. "No," he said after a long moment. "I don't understand half of what Kikyo says about the jewel. But I know what I felt." His lip curled, baring a fang. "The demon soul inside that jewel would have sucked you into its control the moment you invoked its power."

She glared at him, affronted by the very suggestion. "You have no idea what you're talking about, hanyo. And it makes no difference, anyways. The jewel is gone, thanks to you."

He only looked at her, ears pricked forward.

Tsubaki drew a deep breath to settle her emotions. "As I said, you owe me for the jewel. I had thought I would have to satisfy myself with simply getting revenge on you. But last night, I learned the real value of what I had captured. A hanyo with taiyoukai blood. A creature that, merely by being what it is, mingles the blood and the power of both human and youkai. Human and youkai power don't mix well, as I've discovered. And yet, in you, it does."

She paused, and regarded the hanyo. He watched her silently and intently, his fingers flexing slowly. "I intend to take your power. If you cooperate with me, it should be fairly painless. You may die, you may turn human; at this point I don't know. But you won't suffer, if I can help it." She smiled thinly, "I'll even be generous and agree to let Kikyo and those worthless villagers live."

His ears lowered. "If I say no?"

Tsubaki smiled. "I'll go back to my original plan, with some changes. Would you like the list?" She moved towards him, taking due note of the faint rumble emanating from him. She had strengthened her barriers considerably from the day before; she was confident he would be unable to penetrate them. "Inu hanyo. A puppy should have a collar, don't you think? A nice, pretty collar to go with those puppy ears." She reached out and touched the nearest ear.

She never saw him move. Between one eyeblink and the next, he was on his feet, a length away from her, ears completely flat against his head, and snarling. His hands were arched before him, the claws glowing yellow. "Don't try that again, bitch," he spat.

Smirking, she removed the collar from her sleeve. "You didn't object to it last night. You were practically purring when I scratched your ears."

He started, eyes flaring wide, before narrowing to slits. "You—dared!" His stance deepened into a crouch, his growl continuous.

"Of course I did. I am Tsubaki, a dark priestess. You are merely a vulgar, disgusting hanyo."

The volume of his growl increased. She could see the tension in his body, the temptation to strike at her. She smirked, knowing that he was afraid to make a move, afraid of the collar. She held it up so he could see it plainly, rubbing her thumb along it. His hands flexed, his claws growing brighter. His ears were almost hidden in his hair. She let her smirk grow wider, thinking how much she was going to enjoy tormenting him by stroking his ears, his hair, everywhere that he obviously hated being touched. She wouldn't even have to hurt him…

His growling stopped, as his eyes widened. Her smile faded somewhat in puzzlement as he straightened. He sniffed deeply, obviously, then drew his lips back in a sneer. "You're not a priestess," he declared. "You're a bitch—a rutting bitch. You want me. I can smell it—you're stinking up the room with your lust. A bitch. A panting, rutting bitch, who has to kidnap because she can't get it for free."

Tsubaki jerked. Her smirk and her color vanished, her hands dropping to her side in shock. He knew! Her thoughts whirled senselessly for a long moment. He couldn't! How? But-she—"

"Sankon Tessou!" The hanyo lashed out as she stood frozen in shock, golden arches of light flashing from his claws. She flinched instinctively, but her protections, drawn in close to her body held as the claws slammed into them. Except one place, where the collar dangled from her fingers, its circle partly outside the protections. The lower half of the black ring exploded as the eldritch claws tore it apart, and Tsubaki yelped in pain as her fingers burned. She staggered at little from the impact of the eldritch claws on her shields, and then felt the spells on the remaining rings trigger. The hanyo shattered the roof with his upward leap, and then yelped as light flared around wrists and ankles.

He plummeted straight down, pulled by the rings encircling his extremities. He landed hard, with a grunt of expelled air. Arms and legs were snapped out by the bands, as the spell controlling their outer surfaces forced them apart. The hanyo snarled and fought against the pull. His face twisted with the effort, teeth bared and clenched, eyes shut and ears flattened against his skull. Tsubaki watched him, cradling her burned hand, wondering how long the hanyo was going to fight the bonds. She'd put a lot of her borrowed youki energy into those spells; enough to hold an ogre, it should be.

She hoped.


	14. Chapter 14: Cooperation

**Author's Note: **Apologies for being slow on this chapter, but it underwent an almost complete rewrite. The preceding chapter also got slightly re-written, mostly with a shortened ending, so if you haven't read chapter 13 since about 11/5/06, you may want to re-read it. I've known where this story is ending up since before I started it, but I didn't expect it to become quite this lengthy!

**Part 14: Cooperation**

Damn her, damn her, damn her! He would not be held!

Inuyasha pulled against rings with all of his strength, unleashing the rage he had been keeping under control. He would not let her do this to him! No one was going to pinion him, play with him, make him a pet—never! He felt the skin tearing at the wrists and ankles as he fought to bend his limbs, and didn't care. His tightly-clenched fists were driving his claws into his hands, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was defeating the witch's latest spells. He had broken her spells the night before, he could break them again! Enough of human manners, and silly human ways!

He felt his youkai blood start to burn in response to his anger. Yes! Gasping for a fresh breath, Inuyasha welcomed the fire, urged it to increase. He could sense the youki in the spelled rings, and it was strong. But not stronger than his! He felt his own youki rise, and willed it down his legs and arms. He would shatter the rings from within. He could feel the blood under their surfaces, where they had burned through cloth and skin. Stupid woman! He would break her rings with his blood, his youki, and then he would break her, he was not her plaything, not ever!

Power pulsed down his arms and legs, flaring, gathering about his bleeding ankles and wrists. Gasping again, growling, he concentrated on the blood, seeing it as four circles of power, of tiny red claws poised to rip outwards, shattering anything and everything in their path. It didn't matter that he had no way to 'throw' the blood claws, no way to give them direction. All that mattered was enough power to shatter the rings, to free him, and if he shattered half the house doing so, he didn't care. Another gasp, another pulse of youki, and he opened his mouth to yell the words that would trigger the claws—

Instead, he screamed, as fire exploded up his limbs from the rings, burning the youki as it went. Concentration broken, he screamed again as, freed of his fierce resistance, the rings' full power jerked savagely on his arms and legs. For a moment, it seemed that he was going to be pulled apart. And then, the relentless pull from the rings halted. Every muscle in his body howled at the release in tension. He panted for breath, trying not to moan.

"So." He heard the witch move closer. "You are just as vulnerable to spiritual power as a pure-blooded youkai, aren't you, little puppy? Look him over, Kuroshin—I'm sure I heard something snap."

The pain from his pulled muscles was already fading, but Inuyasha did not try to resist the small hands that carefully—and with surprising gentleness—investigated his limbs. He didn't need the little man to tell him that both shoulders were dislocated. "Should I fix them?""A two-legged puppy doesn't need his forelimbs," replied Tsubaki. "Sit him up and remove his kimonos."

"As you wish, mistress." Inuyasha winced as the shikigami moved his arms from above his head to alongside his body, though he was a bit surprised that the being hadn't simply shoved him to a sitting position, letting his arms fall as they would. He felt the small hands working on his upper clothing, pulling them out from under the sash and working them open.

"Can you sit up, Inuyasha-san?"

He opened his eyes, surprised again. Impassive black eyes looked down at him, one small hand barely touching his chest. "Do you need help?"

Inuyasha blinked. "Uh, no." He brought his legs together, relieved that he could at least move them, then braced himself and sat up. Shoulders and arms protested. He ignored it, slowly moving his legs until he was sitting cross-legged. The shikigami eased the sleeves off his arms, and then stepped back with the clothing, leaving Inuyasha bare from the waist up.

"You don't have to be polite to the puppy, Kuroshin," said Tsubaki, with the slightest edge of impatience in her voice. "It doesn't appreciate it."

"My apologies, mistress. However, this one was created by the mistress to be polite. This one has not been informed how to determine that when or how to be polite to one being, and rude to another. And is it not better to return rudeness with politeness?"

"Hanyos don't need politeness, Kuroshin."

"Why? This one acknowledges that Inuyasha-san was quite rude to the mistress. However, this one observed that the mistress was impolite to the hanyo first. It also appeared to this one, that the mistress was attempting to make the hanyo lose his temper."

In the fulminating silence, Inuyasha smirked to himself, mildly amused. "If the miko-san agrees to stop calling me 'puppy' and threatening me with a collar, I'll agree to stop calling her a bitch," he offered.

"You—!" Tsubaki snarled something unintelligible. Inuyasha gasped as the rings wrenched his arms around, snapping together behind his back, twisting so that his unclenched claws would lie against his bare skin. Another muttered word, and the ankle rings suddenly seemed to become massive weights. The wood floor groaned, and Inuyasha grimaced. "That's better. Now, look at me, puppy."

His ears twitched. "Bitches in heat are annoying when you're not interested."

He heard her walk up behind him. He expected her to grab his hair; he didn't expect her to grab and twist an ear. He yelped and tried to pull away, then cringed when she scorched his ear with her miko's power. It didn't precisely feel like Kikyo's power, but it hurt. A lot.

"You are my captive, hanyo, and you had best not forget that," she said with an icy, angry edge in her voice. "Just how painful the short remainder of your life is depends on you."

"Keh," Inuyasha sniffed. "If you're trying to seduce me, bitch, you're doing a piss-poor job. I wonder how ugly you are under that illusion—what are you, really, a withered old hag?"

Her fingers on his ear tightened, then released it. He thought he was prepared for pain. He wasn't prepared for the bands to move. He was brutally wrenched into the air, all of his weight—and, for a split second, the apparent weight of the ankle bands—slamming onto his already dislocated shoulders. He cried out, then clenched his teeth as all four bands began to burn. Something was said, but at that moment he could not hear words for the effort to not give in to the pain. The cursed miko witch bitch was not going to make him scream!

* * *

Kuroshin considered his current set of orders, and inspected the suspended hanyo. The captive's eyes were closed and his teeth bared in a grimace, through which his gasping breath wheezed. Blood had trickled down his forearms and soaked his socks, but the oozing from the bands appeared to have stopped. His shoulders, however, were darkening from internal bleeding. Deciding that his questions would have to wait, the shikigami knelt besides the hanyo's feet, which dangled a double-hand's breadth from the floor. Carefully, he began to pull off the first ruined, bloodied sock. The ankle ring had gone on top of the sock and then sunk into the skin, burning the material into two pieces. The foot twitched as he pulled on the bottom part of the sock, and there was a faint rumble of a growl above his head. 

"Hanyo-san, I am only removing the socks from your feet. There is no reason to resist."

"Keh," the hanyo answered after a moment, a bit tightly. "Always hated—wearing socks."

"Then why did you put them on?" asked Kuroshin, the curiosity that was his one emotion piqued.

"You—figure it—out."

Kuroshin eased the top of the sock over the ankle band. "You were attempting to please the mistress by dressing as you thought she wanted, so that she would not punish you?"

"Stupid!" The hanyo snorted. "Did it to annoy her. She—didn't expect—me to know—how to dress."

The shikigami shifted his position. "You seek to annoy her? That is also why you insulted her? But why? It has only led to more pain that you might have otherwise experienced."

The hanyo snorted again. "Stupid. Bitch plans—to kill me. I'm not going to let her."

Kuroshin pulled the pieces of the second sock off, then stood up and moved behind the hanyo. "I do not understand how annoying her helps your chances of surviving, hanyo-san," he said, working on the knot of the sash holding up the hakama. "It would seem to decrease your chances, if anything. She did offer you the chance to live, and to protect your friends, by cooperating with her—why did you not take it?"

"Bitch was lying."

Kuroshin froze for a second. "Lying? Why do you say that?"

Inuyasha gave an impatient grunt. "I smelled it, stupid. Just like I smelled her lust."

"Smelled? Oh." Kuroshin recalled the tanuki's words from the night before. "Just how acute is your ability to smell?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"Because I desire information in order to give my mistress the best possible advice." Kuroshin contiued working on the knot.

"Like I should help you help your mistress to kill me."

Kuroshin's hands froze again for a moment. "Oh. Of course," he realized. "Forgive me, Inuyasha-san. I have not had to speak with a captive of the mistress' before: I had not considered that a captive will obviously desire not to give any information to the captor's servant."

There was an unintelligible sound from the hanyo. The hakama slid down to the ground in a crumpled heap. Kuroshin began to work on the under-clothes. "Hey!" protested the hanyo. "What are you doing?"

"Did you not hear the mistress' orders?" asked the shikigami. "She ordered you to be stripped, and to have your hair cut off."

The hanyo cursed. Then cursed again as the last cloth dropped off his body. "Rutting bitch," Kuroshin heard the hanyo mutter as he neatly folded the clothes and left the room with them. The hanyo was still muttering to himself as Kuroshin returned, though he stopped as his ear swiveled towards the shikigami. Approaching from behind, Kuroshin laid out a square of silk. Looking up at the hanyo, the shikigami considered his options, given that while he had been able to reach the hanyo's waist, barely, he was far too short to carry out the remainder of Tsubaki's orders from the ground.

"Please forgive me, Inuyasha-san," he said. "The mistress did not give me the power to lift myself off the ground, so I must do this." Leaping, he clamped his feet around the hanyo's waist, grabbing hold of one arm to balance himself. The hanyo gave a pained grunt, ears flattening in reflex. The shikigami shifted position so that his lower legs were braced against the hanyo's sides. "I will be as quick as possible," he said, pulling out a rawhide thong and tying Inuyasha's hair into a tail. "Please try to not move unless I ask—I do not wish to hurt you."

The hanyo did not answer, save with a faint growl. Shifting himself carefully, the shikigami started to cut the hair with a small, thin-bladed knife, slicing through a small lock at a time. The hanyo said nothing, but the white ears shivered almost constantly. Trimming the shorter hairs at the front of the scalp, Kuroshin worked through the longer hairs. "Inuyasha-san," he said presently, "would you please move your ears? You do not appear to like having your ears touched." The ears folded more tightly against the skull for a long moment, before, with a small sound, the hanyo swiveled his ears so that they were pointing almost horizontally away from the skull. "Thank-you," said Kuroshin, carefully maneuvering the knife so that the tip missed the ear.

He felt the ribs beneath his legs heave. "Are you—always this polite?" asked the hanyo in a querulous tone.

"It is as I was made," he replied. "Does it bother you?"

"Feh. People don't go around—being polite—to hanyos."

"Not even those whose lives you saved?"

The ears twitched. "Almost all," the hanyo corrected himself with a mutter. The ears started to rotate forward, then moved back to their previous position. "Headman … thanked me," he murmured a few moments later, as if to himself. "No one … ever thanked me. Before."

Kuroshin paused in his work to stare at one quivering ear. "I still do not understand why humans despise hanyos," he observed. "Neither you nor the mistress has given me a reasonable answer."

"Why do youkai hate hanyos? Same difference."

"But why?" persisted Kuroshin, smoothing some of the cut hair of his way. "It does not make sense, to hate or despise someone just because of their existence."

"Yeah."

The rather forlorn note in the hanyo's voice made the shikigami pause in his cutting for just a moment. "This one was not given the ability to hate or despise," he said after a moment. "Perhaps that is why it does not understand."

The hanyo just sighed.

The shikigami continued his task in silence. Finishing, he dropped back to the floor, taking the long tail of hair with him. Setting it to the side, he lifted the corners of the cloth, shaking the short hairs into the middle. Folding it in thirds, he then doubled up the long tail of hair, set it in the middle of the cloth, and then folded everything into a neat packet. Standing up with the packet in his hand, Kuroshin walked around to face the hanyo. "Inuyasha-san."

The hanyo opened his eyes to look down at the shikigami. "What do you want?" The furry ears, looking huge without the thick hair to hide their bases, swiveled to concentrate on him.

The boy—Kuroshin considered this description, and decided it fit well enough, though he suspected his mistress would not care for it. The young hanyo, he corrected himself, then, looked tired and in pain. He wondered what the emotion of 'pity' felt like. "Thank-you for not fighting this one, Inuyasha-san," he said formally.

"Keh." The hanyo looked away. "It—wasn't worth—fighting over."

Kuroshin thought there was a lie in that reply, but after a moment, saw no reason why he should argue with the captive. "Nevertheless, this one acknowledges appreciation." He gave a bow and turned away. He had almost reached the sliding door when the hanyo called out.

"Kuroshin-san."

He turned. The hanyo looked at him, and then glanced away. "I—thank-you," he said awkwardly. "For—showing me—for being polite. Even if it's only—because of how you're made."

Kuroshin tilted his head and studied the hanyo, before giving another bow. "You are welcome, Inuyasha-san."

* * *

Tsubaki stalked back into her workroom, holding her bandaged hand, still trembling with her anger. To think that that filthy hanyo would call her – her, a powerful, clever, beautiful dark priestess – a bitch! And worse, to think that he had smelled out her body's unwanted attraction for his body, and taunted her with that knowledge! 

She sank into a kneeling position before the altar. Her anger, she knew, was dangerous. She would not be able to create a new collar, let alone achieve her desire to gain power from the hanyo, as long as he was able to provoke this rage in her. Folding her hands together, she closed her eyes and started murmuring the repetitive prayer that her sensei had taught her as a means to meditate. She let the words fill her head, letting go of thoughts, of emotions. There was no infuriating hanyo, no seething anger. Only the gentle cadence of the words, the slow in and out of her breathing, the quieting beating of her heart.

When she finally opened her eyes, Kuroshin was waiting along the inner wall of the room, kneeling, a white-silk packet placed in front of his knees. "You have the hair," she observed.

"Yes, mistress."

"Did he—it—fight you much?"

"He did not fight me, mistress. He was, in fact, cooperative."

Tsubaki nodded her head, letting the pang of disappointment fall disappear into the lake of calm the meditation had left behind. "It is a fool, then," she said dismissively. "This will make it easier to control it."

"Is it wise to call the hanyo a fool, mistress? Could not using such terms lead to underestimating him?"

She gave him a long look. "You are probably right," she conceded grudgingly. She stared down at her slender hands, laying on her thighs. "I am—very angry with h-it. The things it called me..."

"Was there any truth behind what he said?"

The shikigami's voice was very calm, as always. But just the question threatened to raise the billows of rage she had been attempting to calm. She did not want to admit the truth, not to him, not to anyone. She wanted to deny that there was any truth; she wanted to tell Kuroshin never to ask that question again. But to do so, would be to waste everything she had put into the shikigami. For this was one reason why she had created him as she had; to have a voice that could ask her the questions that she might prefer not to hear, that might keep her from another disastrous course of action. A voice that she could trust… "I—I have—I am attracted to him," she said after a long pause and a deep breath. She closed her eyes and sighed, imagining her anger drifting out from her on that sigh. She straightened her back a little, and turned her hands palms up, thumb and index fingers touching. "Very attracted."

"Why does it make you so angry?" asked Kuroshin. "If you want to have him, can you not create a spell to make him submit to you, as you did for the lady who visited two moons ago?"

Tsubaki shot him a sharp look. "It's not that simple."

He tilted his head. "Explain please, mistress?"

She sighed, and settled her gaze on the incense burner on the altar. "I refuse to let a man touch me. I will not risk my beauty, my youth, my power, to let any man bed me. Mother was a beautiful and powerful miko, but she let her father marry her to an ambitious lordling who cared only if she could give him sons. She died trying to bear a son. I will not be like her."

"And it would be a risk, to curse him to submit to you, since he has already broken some of your spells."

"Yes," she answered shortly. "But even if he were human and powerless, I would not let him bed me. No one touches me."

"He has not shown that he wants you," Kuroshin observed. "Is that why you feel angry?"

"No! Idiot!" she glared at the shikigami. "I am angry because he knows! You heard him—he mocked me, he was trying to make me angry, and he succeeded!"

"Then, why did you not accept his offer to drop the insults?"

Tsubaki stiffened, whipping her head around to glare at the shikigami. For a long moment, she said nothing, her hands clenching. "The hanyo is my captive," she said. "I make no bargains with a captive."

"Is that why you lied to him, when you suggested he should cooperate with you?"

She started. "What?"

Kuroshin elaborated. Tsubaki flushed, and looked away, back down at her hands. "I wasn't serious," she admitted. "I was trying to make the hanyo angry."

"But why not be serious?" asked Kuroshin. "You want his power, yet that power threatens you, if he breaks free. Would it not be safer, to persuade him to let you work on him without his resistance?"

She snorted. "And why would that hanyo ever agree to let me try to strip his powers from him?"

"According to what you told me, he risked dying, to use the Shikon No Tama to save the lives of others. Is it not then reasonable to assume, that he would give in to you, rather than risk harm to those others?"

"He's a hanyo..."

"Yes, mistress, but what does that mean? You thought his being a hanyo meant he was weak; he is not. You thought his being a hanyo would make him unappreciative of politeness: you are wrong again, for he thanked me for being polite to him. You have admitted that you have never met a hanyo before. Where then, is the evidence that he would not accept a bargain that protected those he cares about, even at the risk of his own life?"

Tsubaki raised her gaze to the small brazier on the altar, and the thin thread of incense, letting her thoughts try to grapple with the concept of a hanyo selfless enough to put other lives before his own. Nonsense, surely! And, yet—she knew she didn't understand that type of person. She could not imagine any situation where she would help another at her own cost. But that they existed, she knew. The old priest who had talked her father into letting her train at the temple had later been killed trying to stop a masterless samurai from raping a young girl. Or so her sensei had told her. And no few of her clients had intended to use their victims' desire to protect loved ones, to make their torment worse.

Humans, certainly, had such weaknesses.

But a half-youkai?

She couldn't imagine any of the youkai she had interacted with ever having a single, selfless thought in their mostly tiny heads. But were the higher youkai, and the taiyoukai, equally selfish? For that matter, what would drive a taiyoukai to mate with a mortal human? Did they--could they--feel love, caring, sacrifice?

And, like it or not, the hanyo was also half-human, and according to the brat, in love with Kikyo. Lovers were so often the most foolish beings around, eager to protect their beloved from danger. So, she should probably grant that this hanyo did have such vulnerability, and that she should attempt to use it.

Tsubaki sighed. Giving up her plan to curse the villagers would be a minor loss; they were only illiterate, poor, helpless farmers after all. But to give up any idea of killing Kikyo after forcing her to watch her lover die—that would be hard. Of course, letting Kikyo live after having been helpless to save her love would be a form of revenge. But sufficient?

She sighed. Revenge was a glorious, tasty dish.

But there were other goals, even more important than revenge.


	15. Chapter 15: Attempted Flight

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XV: Attempted Flight **

Sweat and blood spattered the mat below Inuyasha's feet. His youkai blood kept the pain of his dislocated shoulders to a dull ache—but only when he wasn't fighting his bonds.

Gasping for breath against his constrained ribs, Inuyasha opened his eyes as the pain and dizziness from his latest effort to break the bonds receded, and noticed it was lighter. Kuroshin had blown out the lamps when he left, leaving it dark. Night was nearly over. Inuyasha felt a whimper trying to claw its way out of his throat. He clenched his teeth against that cry, then had to open his mouth again, as he just couldn't seem to get enough air with his mouth closed.

Inuyasha stared down at the floor, fighting a growing fear. How long had he been fighting the bands? How many times had he tried to summon the strength to break the spells, only to be burned or convulsed by the inner spells triggering? He'd lost count. He'd never been held like this. Youkai never tried to capture him; they were only interested in killing him. Humans did, but they hadn't been able to do so since his childhood, when his desperate desire to believe that someone would want him and take care of him, had led to him into several traps, before he had learned to abandon hope. But none of those occasions had been anything like this. They had only had human ingenuity and human powers to draw on. But the bands on his wrists and ankles drew on youkai and human powers alike, and he couldn't break free!

Inuyasha flung his head back, fighting the susurration of panic, the keening edge of fear that would send him into a mindless paroxysm of struggle against the unmovable bonds if he gave into it. Pain crackled and snapped along his neck and shoulders as he moved, and his eyes screwed shut as he fought against the panic. Gods, what wouldn't he give to have Kikyo step in at that moment, ready to take down that rutting bitch and free him? Who cared if it was the big, strong hanyo getting rescued by the priestess? Who cared about pride? He just wanted to be back at her side, he wanted to be free of this!

"Ki-kyo." The name stumbled brokenly out of his raw, dry throat, and despair threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted her to show up, but how could he really bear it if she did? What would she think of him, with his hair shorn, stripped naked, unable to escape from a mere mortal woman?

And what if she did show up, and she wasn't strong enough to defeat Tsubaki? Apparently, she'd done it once, but what if she failed? The bitch wasn't threatening just to get revenge on him, but on Kikyo, and the villagers as well. He didn't understand why, but from what she'd said, she wanted to kill them.

It hit him, then. The bitch intended to kill Kikyo. And the villagers. Kaede. Yasuo. Kenichi. Korana.

Korana.

The bitch wanted to kill Korana.

_No._ He remembered the little girl's fingers on his ears, and the little girl's hugs, and his promise to her. He thought of her dead, again, just because he was too weak to defeat a power-grubbing, rutting, sneering bitch. _No!_ Kikyo dead, Kaede dead, Korana dead, because he wasn't there to protect them.

"_I – won't – let – you!" _

* * *

Tsubaki started at the scream, and the brush jerked wildly, spoiling the spell scroll. "Kuroshin!" she snapped, before remembering that she had sent him on an errand, when she had gotten up early to finish working on the new neck ring to have it done by sunrise. The hanyo had looked exhausted and barely conscious, and had seemed safe enough to leave without a watcher. She cursed to herself as she glared at the ruined spell scroll, before scrambling to her feet. She snatched two items from the altar, tucking them into her sleeve as she ran towards the other room. She felt the noticeable shift in energies before she arrived. Nevertheless, she halted in shock and dismay as she saw the hanyo. 

The hanyo's body was taut against the bands, his head thrown back, teeth bared in a grimace, as spiritual energy sparked and danced around his extremities, causing his body to jerk and dance. A half-strangled, almost continuous growl issue from his throat, as his youki pulsed and flared around him, growing ever more. Blood dripped from his clenched hands, and slid down his arms and feet. And her bands – her double-spelled bands – were glowing white, pulsing in time with his youki. She mentally touched the spells, and flinched – she could feel them cracking, starting to fail. She had to stop him, and now! But how? She reached into her sleeve, then hesitated a moment, momentarily uncertain which one to use. She wasn't ready to kill him, and did't want to risk maiming him—

With an explosive crack, the world went wild. The flash of light from four broken bands caused her to instinctively shield her eyes with her hands. The air was filled with glowing, razor-edged, red claws of blood. At least half a dozen slammed into her, and despite her shields, she was flung backwards into the wall. Off-balance, she fell to the floor, her ears filled with the multiple cracks of the blades slicing through solid wood. She caught a glimpse of the ceiling blowing apart under the multiple blades. And then everything was collapsing with a roar of sound, and all she could do was wrap her arms around her head and concentrate all of her power on the shields in the hope that it would be sufficient.

* * *

With an explosive grunt, Inuyasha jumped with all the strength in his legs. Sections of floor, walls and roof rattled off him as he flew into the air. Unencumbered, he landed in the clearing outside, staggering, and then going to one knee. Not quite groaning as he pushed himself to his feet, feeling the blood running down from a torn ear and a multitude of other cuts, he turned to look at the house as the rising sun threw his shadow across it. About half of the house appeared to have collapsed, while the rest looked as if the first stiff breeze would finish its destruction. Panting, the hanyo studied the scene with a moderate sense of satisfaction. It served the bitch right to have her house destroyed. Of course, he was almost certain that he hadn't taken her out—he had smelled the mingled scent of her body and her magic shields while he had been squirming around under the debris to get his feet under him. Which meant that he'd better get moving before she recovered.

Turning away from the house, he took off at a slow run, heading downhill, his abused body refusing to go faster. He desperately wanted to get to water, to quench his thirst and to wash off the blood. He'd worry about food and clothing later, after he'd opened some distance between him and the bitch. But he had to have the water; the scent of the heavy dew was maddening, given his raw throat, and the scent of a river was enticingly near.

He'd reached the first trees when his left leg collapsed on him. He fell with a yelp as pain spasmed through his lower leg, sliding his own length on the steepening slope before a tree root stopped him. Shoving himself against the tree, he managed to get upright, standing on his good leg. Gingerly testing his other leg, he realized that it was broken; the bones snapped a hands-breadth below the knee. Swearing in gasping hisses under his breath, Inuyasha began to hop on his good leg, determined not to give up.

Six hops later, and he went down with a scream more of frustration than pain as his right leg broke in identical fashion. Curse that bitch! Why didn't she give up! Panting, he looked around, and then lunged from his knees towards the nearest branch that was higher than his normal height. He managed to get his left hand around the branch, then let himself fall, twisting violently as his weight slammed on his shoulder. Fire flamed through his shoulder, but he felt the pop as the bone moved back into its socket, and immediately let go. Crumpled in on himself, he panted, waiting for the burn of the pain to recede. When it faded to something he could ignore, and when a brief test showed that the arm could move normally, if painfully, he repeated the process with his right arm. Panting away the pain, blinking the sweat from his eyes, Inuyasha pulled himself to his hands and knees. He wasn't giving up.

Unfortunately, neither was she. Inuyasha had the river in sight, when all four upper limb bones shattered one after the other. Inuyasha went down with a cry and a curse. Face down, he panted for long moments, then lifted his head. Face twisted in a grimace, he forced his arms up, ignoring the pain that came with every muscle twitch, pain that not even youkai blood could entirely subdue. Planting his claws in the ground, he pulled himself forward a bare scant hand-width before the pain overwhelmed even his ability to ignore. Trying not to whimper, he waited for the pain to subside, then pulled out his claws and forced his arms forward again. That hurt worse than the first time, and he had to pause before digging in his claws. Blinking back sweat, he looked up at his destination, trying not to think of how many times he would have to repeat the agonizing exercise to get to the water. He wouldn't think of it. Only the goal mattered. Reach the river. Topple in, fall in. Let the current take him, and if it drowned him, he didn't really care. Just getting there.

Digging his claws in, he pulled his body another hand-width forward.

* * *

It had been hard, very hard, to open a hole in her shields sufficient for her summoned demons to slip through, while still keeping the shields intact against the weight of the collapsed roof and wall. Even harder was holding the shields while also using the spell to use her new bird-youkai's eyes. It would have been simpler if she had had a mirror to hand, but she didn't. Fortunately, the paper doll she had taken from the altar needed no additional energy. Tied to the hanyo through blood and hair, the figure of a white dog could have been used to destroy the hanyo at any time.

She didn't intend to, of course. She only intended to stop him, and bring him back under her control. Moving the paper dog between her fingers, ignoring the sounds the large demons made as they started pulling away the material trying the squash the life out of her, Tsubaki concentrated, pushing all emotion aside to keep her will centered on her two spells. The hanyo was already near the woods when the bird-youkai spotted him. Fingers drifted over the palm-sized cutout of a dog, and found a hind leg. Pinching the lower leg between thumb and fingernail, she folded it sharply. In the birds-eye vision, she saw the hanyo fall. He picked himself up, and kept going on one leg. She bent the dog's other hind leg, breaking the corresponding bones in the hanyo's leg. He performed some odd antics, and then started crawling on hands and knees. After a long pause—it was difficult to think under the pressure of multiple spells—Tsubaki realized that the hanyo had somehow managed to force his upper arm bones back into their shoulder sockets.

A stray thought conceded that the hanyo's stubbornness was in the same class as her own.

But it wouldn't save him.

Shifting the paper doll in her fingers, she quickly added new folds—and breaks—to the upper arms and legs. The hanyo collapsed, and this time, looked ready to stay down.

But not long. To her disbelief, she saw him trying to pull himself forward with his arms, broken as they were. She released the spell on the bird-youkai, noting that the pressure on her shields was lessening. Enough was enough, she thought, calling out the other two youkai she had brought under control the day before. They were small, each barely the length the length of her hand. Narrow, lidless red eyes watched her from behind needle-pointed snouts, while boneless, worm-like bodies studded with hair-thin, equally needle-pointed spikes twitched restlessly in mid-air. Their minds radiated nothing but blood-lust. They were a vicious type of youkai, and rare only because they were as ready to turn on one another as on any other youkai or mortal animal.

"Find the hanyo," she told them. "You are not to kill it, but you are to stop it from moving forward. I want it bled, I want it injured, I want it unconscious. I do not want it killed. Do you understand?"

Their minds rebelled. They wanted more than blood, they wanted death. But they were only minor youkai, vicious as they were, and Tsubaki's will and spell subdued their rebellion. Satisfied that they would obey her, she released the pair.

She returned her attention to re-establishing the vision spell, smiling thinly in a distanced anticipation.

* * *

His arms would not move. Inuyasha lifted his head and looked down the slope, to where the river ran barely two lengths from his fingertips. So close! And yet his arms would not move, and he was so tired, and he hated how almost everything and everyone wanted to hate him—

He smelled youkai, and heard something moving through the air that was not using feathered wings. His ears flicked, trying to localize the sound, and then he saw them, arrowing straight towards him. Uninjured, on his feet, he probably could have avoided them. Exhausted and on his belly, he had no chance. They struck.

Inuyasha screamed. Pain overcame pain, and his claws raked his face, catching the two youkai between fingers and yanking them out of his eyes, twisting onto his back. His hands clenched on the tiny youkai, driving dozens of needles through his palms and fingers even as they twisted and drove their snouts into his palms as well. Instinct, not conscious thought pulsed his youki down through his claws and into the tiny bodies. The eldritch energy disintegrated the two youkai with tiny pops, needle hairs and all, but Inuyasha cried out as his own power seared his hands. Blinded, exhausted, whimpering in agony, the hanyo started to curl onto his side.

Then the scent of youkai tickled his nose again, and any semblance of conscious thought vanished. Driven by pain and fear and instincts, he lunged to a sitting position, fingers arched and claws glowing, his fangs bared in a rolling snarl. A voice spoke but he did not hear; a scent of paper and ink came to his nose but he did not smell. There was only the scent of youkai, and the pain-triggered instincts of his youkai blood. Instincts told him when the enemy came too close, and he slashed out with his claws, yelling his battle-cry though his voice was more croak than shout, and when the smell of youkai vanished, leaving behind the scent of burnt paper, he did not wonder why.


	16. Chapter 16: Regret & Retribution

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XVI: Regret & Retribution**

The ashes left smears of black on her hands as black as his eyes. Tsubaki knelt where she had picked up the ashes that the errant breeze had not already stolen. It stole more, twirling them from the cup of her fingers even as she stared at them, a pain in her heart she could recall only ever feeling once before.

"Kuroshin." She whispered his name to herself, not willing to believe, though she had seen it happen. She had reinstated the spell linking her to the bird-youkai's vision just as the two youkai had attacked. She had been surprised and dismayed when the hanyo destroyed the vicious pests. Fingering the paper dog, she had been trying to figure out how to drop the hanyo without further damaging it when it had sat up, snarling. A figure had moved from out of the obscuring shadow of leaves, and she had felt a stab of horror to see that it was Kuroshin. Still trapped beneath debris and stretched by the active feeding of two spells, she had been unable to anything but watch as Kuroshin, her na•ve, trusted Kuroshin, walked up to the snarling hanyo, apparently saying something. The hanyo had slashed out with his hand, and golden claws had ripped into the unsuspecting shikigami, tearing him apart.

Something hot touched her cheek. Lifting one ash-smeared hand, she touched a finger to the heat, then lowered it. She stared at the dampness. A tear?

She didn't cry. She could not remember crying in years, since her mother had died. Since her nurse had told her that crying made her look weak and was beneath her rank. How could she cry for a mere puppet, a shikigami?

But Kuroshin ... Her creation, from the demonic power she had gained from her first bargain. She had felt herself both exhilarated and frightened from the consummation of that first bargain. A peculiar pain/not pain that had struck her as she absorbed the youkai into her body through her scarred eye; the pain, she had realized, that was a piece of her soul being ripped from her. The power flooding through her had left her euphoric. And yet, at the same time, from the pain had come a surge of terror. Of fear, that she taken the first step down a path that would lead to destruction. She had stood, trembling, poised between two emotions. And then a voice had sounded in her head-her conscience? The demon?

_ What do you want?_

She had expected to reply with her desire for eternal youth and beauty. Yet somehow, from somewhere inside her, had come a difference reply--_I want someone who tells me the truth. I want someone who will never betray me._

Not like her nurse, who had spoiled her, flattered her, lied to her, pretended more skill and influence with Tsubaki's father than she had.

Not the priest who had effectively bought her, praised her potential, then set her to the humiliating tasks of cleaning his temple and serving him.

Not her teacher, who had rescued her from the old fool of a priest, who had praised her eagerness and ability to learn, her growing spiritual powers, who pretended that she was his best student, but then who refused to ensure that she received the Shikon No Tama, not that pale, self-righteous Kikyo.

She had never clearly remembered that next few hours. Mesmerized by a sudden desire to create, she had grabbed paper, ink and brush, and began to write spells. Spells of knowledge, of intelligence, of curiosity. Spells for loyalty, honesty and perception and strength. The sun fell and rose as the power flowed into the spells she created, until she slumped over her desk, exhausted, the youkai power swirling around the pile of scrolls. She had awoken on her futon, a small, slim figure kneeling beside her, with black eyes, short, black hair, dressed in black and white priest-robes.

_How may I serve you, Mistress? _The first words from his mouth.

"Kuroshin," she whispered, closing her eyes that burned. Gone, as if he had never been--

A moan, broken by a gagging cough, drew her attention from her own thoughts. Looking around, she saw the hanyo stirring on the slope above her, blood spraying out of his mouth as he coughed and choked. Dark bitterness stirred in her heart as she stared coldly at him. She had still been holding the dog figure when Kuroshin had been destroyed. Not until the hanyo crumpled had she realized that, and noticed that she had bent the figure nearly in half. The spell had broken the hanyo's ribs, and at least one must have punctured a lung. A pity it hadn't been his neck. Alive, but paralyzed, would not begin to pay for what he had done to her innocent shikigami, but it would have at least kept him reasonably harmless for a while.

On the other hand, a broken neck might also keep him from feeling the pain she intended to inflict on him.

Standing up, she drew her crystal knife from her sleeve, bitterness deepening. Had she simply killed the hanyo, Kuroshin would not have been destroyed. Because of the hanyo, her shikigami, her confidant, her--companion--was gone. She would never be able to create another Kuroshin, never again anything like him. All she could do was avenge her loss.

Circling to come at the hanyo from above him, Tsubaki stopped when she was half a length from his head. There was no indication that it was aware of her presence. It might well be oblivious to everything except the effort to breathe, though she doubted that. She studied the sprawled body carefully. The facial injuries had stopped bleeding, and the simple slashes where already closing. The ribs were obviously broken, but the scar marking the horrific wound that had nearly killed the hanyo looked as if it had occurred several months ago. The hands were a bloody mess, yet the injuries looked older than the raw wounds at wrists and ankles, which were still bleeding. Tsubaki took careful note of that last, while her sense of bitterness grew, envying that precious ability to heal--so wasted on such a monstrous creature. Even if it did mean she could punish it as much as she desired, without fear of its dying.

Though no amount of punishment would be enough, to pay for what he had done.

Her Kuroshin. The passionless, thoughtful voice in her head.

Her other self.

Her conscience.

* * *

Settling herself into the saddle, Kikyo reached for the half-open bag at her knee. She had not slept well the night before, unable to stop reaching for the bag containing Inuyasha's clothes, until she had firmly scolded herself and placed the bag on the other side of the banked fire. Even then, she had slept restlessly, waking with vague dreams of a young boy lost and crying. Her morning check of the fire-rat robes had gained her the sense that Inuyasha was in pain, angry-and afraid. That had disturbed her; she'd never thought of the reckless, hot-tempered hanyo being afraid of anything. She had hurried through breakfast and cleaning up. She had to find him before Tsubaki killed him. 

Her fingers barely touched the red material before she snatched them back. For a moment, almost every bone in her body seemed to pulse with pain, and her breath caught. Gods! What had that wretched woman done to him! Turning her hand over, she stared at her fingertips, as if to try and read and answer there. There was nothing, of course. Only the awareness that, for whatever reason Tsubaki had forborne to torture her captive, that forbearance was over. Inuyasha was in mortal danger, and she had to get to him!

Reins in her other hand, she pulled the drawstring on the bag tight, then reached for the scrap of blood-stained cloth at her waist. Holding it in the palm of her hand, she started to invoke the finding spell she'd lain into the material.

And hesitated.

The fire-rat cloth felt as if it were filled with Inuyasha's essence, as if he had worn it so long that magically, it was part of him. She had noticed the difference in feel between the two materials before. She had assumed the difference was the difference between thread spun from a youkai's fur, and ordinary, magic-less, mortal cotton. Yet the scrap of cotton was heavily stained with Inuyasha's blood. And from all her lessons, she knew, nothing had a stronger tie to a person's self than their own blood. Even allowing for her spell on the cloth, the dried blood should have been giving off an impression of pain even stronger than the fire-rat cloth. Yet, she felt nothing from the blood or the cloth at all. The mare snorted, tossing her head, then side-stepping in evident impatience. Kikyo curbed the restless animal, and then dismounted. Tying the mare to a convenient limb, she removed two of the saddlebags, and after a moment's hesitation, her bow and quiver. Returning to her camp, she quickly reset her wards. Pulling out a sleeve of the red robe, she tried to cut the lacing with her knife, only to discover that the leather-like lace was totally oblivious to the edge of her knife. It cut quite readily when she used the edge of the glimmering arrowhead on it. Laying down the arrow that still contained the spiritual power she'd pulled from Inuyasha to save his life, she wondered just how and when her sister had slipped that arrow into the quiver. She dismissed the question as unimportant, as she prepared the finding spell. She had to know.

Though she already suspected the truth.

* * *

Pain stabbed him from all sides, it seemed, as he breathed, and blood kept getting in the way of his air. All four limbs ached, but his ankles and wrists pulsed with burning agony, worse than anything else. And he was blind. The split-second flash of seeing those two horrid youkai speeding straight for his eyes kept replaying in his mind, and he wanted to whimper. Helpless, again! He could only smell his own blood, he could barely breathe, he wasn't sure he could move: it was almost as bad as the first night, with that poison! And where was that bitch? If she had enough power to break his bones at a distance, she surely had the power to free herself, and she surely intended to preen over his almost helpless state. She-- 

A hand grabbed his good ear and twisted hard. "Ow--bitch!" He tried to raise his arm. If she was close enough to grab his ear, she was close enough to slash with his claws, if only he could get his hand up.

A burning, razor-sharp edge drew gently along his skin under his jaw. "I wouldn't move," said her voice, cool and unafraid. "Unless you think your youkai blood can heal a throat slit by this knife."

Her human-born power burned his skin. Part of him wanted to cringe. "You're -- bluffing," he managed to gasp after a few moments. "You want -- me alive."

"Am I?" She slid the edge along his neck. Pain seared, and he felt blood trickling down his neck. "After what you did to Kuroshin--my lovely Kuroshin--you dare believe I would bluff, about anything?"

"Kuro-shin?" he whispered, totally confused. "What--are you--talking--about?"

The grip on his ear tightened, and the knife sliced a little further. "Don't pretend ignorance, you half-breed monster," she spat. "Kuroshin came out of the woods, completely unaware of what was going on, and you killed him."

_ Kuroshin?_ Inuyasha's mind went blank, trying to remember what had happened after the youkai had blinded him. There'd only been the pain and the shrieking terror at being blind, and a rising tide of angry fire that blanked thought and control. "Don't--remember," he gasped, then began to cough again. The blade left his neck as his body tried to expel the blood flooding his throat. Dizzy and sick with pain as the paroxysm passed, the hanyo couldn't stop the faint whimper. "I don't--remember," he repeated. "Honest." He moved his head slightly, trying to relieve the pull on his ear.

The fingers left his ear. Inuyasha felt it twitching violently, as a piece of him that was almost separate and not under control. At least it was moving, which was more than he could say for the rest of his body. He was so tired, and his head ached, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep until his youkai blood healed him. But his enemy was within touching distance, he was blind and nearly helpless, and she said he had killed Kuroshin?

Kuroshin had never--Kuroshin had treated him like a person. Kuroshin had been--polite to him. To a hanyo. His creator hated hanyos, yet, somehow, Kuroshin--hadn't. The little man had done his mistress' bidding, but there had never been even a suggestion of malice.

And he had killed him? Without knowing it?

_ I didn't mean to._

"Did you say something, hanyo?" Inuyasha started, then flinched, dismayed to realize that he must have spoken aloud.

"Nothing--you'd care--to hear, bitch," he rasped, not wanting at all to let the dark priestess know he was weak enough to feel regret for killing her puppet. It was only a puppet, after all. A thing. Wasn't it?

"So true, hanyo," she agreed. "Who would ever want to listen to anything a hanyo said? Except, maybe, to hear a hanyo beg for mercy."

He tried to growl. "Never."

"Never?" she echoed, archly. "I'll remind you of that, when you beg me to kill you."

"I--won't."

"You will, little puppy," she said with smug assurance. "You're only a hanyo. I am a dark priestess, and I have my own youkai power. You may have broken a spell or two, but you won't manage that again. I am going to take your power, I am going to break your body, and I am going to make you beg to die."

"If anyone dies, it will--be you, bitch." Without thinking, he flexed his hands, then winced as pain washed up his arms.

"You plan to kill me, like you did Kuroshin?" she asked. "Then I'd better take care of your weapons, hadn't I?"

_ Weapons?_ His claws? But how could she do anything to his claws? They were part of him--

His ear twitched, as he heard her whispering something that he couldn't understand. His nose was still overwhelmed with the stench of his own blood clogging the back of his throat, yet he could almost scent-or was it sense-something building? Power: not his power, not her borrowed youkai power. The power of a priestess turned to the dark path. Part of him wanted to whimper and crawl away and hide. But he wouldn't! He could feel the sweat trickling down his face, and the traitorous throat trying to create that whimper, but he wouldn't let it! No one would ever make him beg, no one would ever make him admit he was afraid, she could destroy him bit by bit, and he would defy her to his last breath--

A knife with no substance slashed through the fingertips of his right hand, cutting through bone and claw, skin and flesh with as much ease as it might through the wind itself. Inuyasha screamed in agony, his body convulsing, as the shock of those five amputations slammed through him. He screamed again, and then something was being pulled out of him, and his mind and will crumpled and fell into the dizzying darkness.

* * *

The strip of cloth and the length of lacing pointed in two very different directions, over a third of a circle apart. Kikyo closed her eyes against a stab of despair and recrimination. How could she have not suspected Tsubaki of further attempts at misdirection? How could she have let herself blithely assume that the false memories implanted in Kaede were the dark priestess' only effort to hide her doings? How much had Inuyasha, how much would Inuyasha suffer, because she never thought that the solitary strip of bloodied cloth had been a deliberate, misleading lure?

Taking a deep breath, Kikyo pushed back the negative, flagellating thoughts, knowing that none of that would get Inuyasha free. She eyed the cotton strip. She couldn't read the cloaked spells she had finally detected on it. But she could guess that one of them allowed Tsubaki to track her. If she took it with her, Tsubaki would realize that Kikyo had changed her course. But just leaving the cloth behind would probably have the same result.

She sat and thought for a while, trying to ignore the urge to get back on the horse, and set off on a hard gallop. Cunning was needed, not haste. Finally, she sighed, reaching for her quiver. She sliced the palm of her left hand with the sharp arrow-tip, smearing the blood over the arrowhead and the shaft. Cutting a piece from her sleeve's lacing, she tied the cloth scrap to the arrow. Standing up, she set the arrow to the bowstring, and looked around for a target. Presently, a squirrel appeared among the leaves of a nearby tree. _Forgive me,_ she thought to the small animal. _I will pray for your soul._ Imbuing the arrow with her power, she sighted and let fly. The squirrel squealed as it was pinned to the branch, and then it went limp.

Sighing, Kikyo tucked her new finder into her waistband, before dismissing the wards. If she were lucky, Tsubaki would read the blood and death traces surrounding the cloth, along with the spiritual power she'd put in the arrow, and assume that Kikyo had been attacked and killed.

The mare snorted and sidled away as she approached with her bleeding hand. Murmuring gently to the horse, Kikyo reached for one of the bags and drew out a strip of cloth she used to bind her hand. Fastening the remaining bags and her weapons back to the saddle, she untied the mare and mounted. Turning the mare around, she headed back down the trail. She had passed a more traveled path late the previous afternoon. From her knowledge of the area, she knew that the path in turn crossed a road that led in the right direction. If she pressed hard, she could get to a village on that road late that afternoon. It would be hard on the mare, but the village was large enough, and wealthy enough, that they surely would willingly trade horses for a miko in an emergency. And the gods grant that she was now on the right path.

And that she would be in time.

Maybe even tonight.

She had to find Inuyasha before it was too late.

* * *

The obsidian half of the blade was glowing red with the power absorbed from the hanyo's youki. Tsubaki looked down at her prey, feeling almost drunk with the power she drawn into herself, and smiled. In her other hand she held the bent and folded paper dog, its right forepaw edged with red. Her clever spells had allowed her to cut off his claws without having to risk being too close to him. And, as she had guessed, much of his power was tied to those claws, and it had poured out of his fingers with as much force as his blood. Channeling it through her knife and into herself had been simple, and exhilarating. The hanyo was truly more powerful than any youkai she had yet dealt with. 

She let her eyes slide a bit out of focus, studying the hanyo's aura. The odd restraint on his youkai blood was still there. Weakened, but still intact. She could only imagine how much power must be behind that barrier. When she finally found her way around it, all her goals-power, eternal youth, eternal beauty--

Shaking off the dream, Tsubaki returned her attention to the present. The ground around the hanyo's hand was soaked with blood. She should do something to stop the bleeding, she mused, noting how pale the creature had become. She certainly didn't want it to die before she broke the restraint on its power, not to mention that it hadn't begun to pay the price for Kuroshin's destruction. Thinking a bit, she smiled cruelly. Moments later, the hanyo's body jerked and started screaming as she cauterized the bleeding fingers with a fire spell. She held the spell longer than she knew was necessary. Dismissing it, she watched in satisfaction as the hanyo curled up on its side, whimpering in pain.

"That's only the first payment," she told it. The white ears didn't even twitch at her voice. She smiled again, and looked up at the youkai hovering overhead. "Take the hanyo to the back yard, near the well," she ordered.

There was a shivering movement among the youkai, and their circle started to widen. "Do it!" she snapped, putting power into the order. "The hanyo can't hurt you, and you can drop it by the well--just no more than three man-heights, and not on its head. Now obey me!"

After a further shivering hesitation, two of the youkai dived. They wrapped themselves around the torso and arms of the semi-conscious hanyo, and lifted him into the air. Tsubaki watched them for a few moments, before turning her attention to the ground. Kneeling by the blood-soaked patch of earth, she began to pick up the five pieces of claw and flesh. As she picked up the last claw, she thought she saw a glint from the corner of her eye. Looking over the ground where she thought she'd seen something, she saw nothing. With a shrug of her shoulders, she dismissed the glint as either imagination, or a bit of youki sparking out of existence. She had a collar to finish, and a hanyo to finish breaking. An odd glint signified nothing.

* * *

The disappearance of the sun on his back roused Inuyasha. He opened his eyes to a fog of light and shadow, totally contradicting the warm, dry air his nose reported. Remembering, he closed his eyes again. He took a slow, careful breath against the fear, and discovered that while his sides were still very sore, there was no sensation of ribs digging into flesh, and that there was no blood in his throat or mouth. Letting his breath out in a sigh, he started mentally examining the rest of his body. His limbs ached with the peculiar pain of healing bone, but he reckoned that if he were careful, he could use them. His wrists and ankles throbbed, but the pain was mostly on the surface. His ears twitched with no indication of the deep cut on the left one he vaguely remembered. He started to stretch his hands, and gasped as pain flamed up his right hand. It was agonizing: he tasted blood as he bit down against a cry. What had that bitch done to his hand?! He remembered the pain, but that had been early morning, and the sun was starting to set. His youkai blood was healing his eyes and the rest of him; what was wrong with his hand? 

"Awake again, puppy? That was a very long nap you took."

Inuyasha growled as he belatedly caught the dark priestess' scent. Shifting himself carefully, he pushed himself up with his good hand, settling into his squatting position. Orienting himself with his ears, he shifted position slightly, to face her. "Bitch", he said--

But what came out of his mouth was a snarl.

He started. The next moment, he realized two things. There was a band around his neck, several fingers wide. And he was holding his injured hand in a very peculiar position. Not curled up next to his chest, but hanging limply from his wrist, with his forearm raised just enough to keep the fingers out of contact with the grass. He growled, raising his good hand in an instinctive effort to examine the collar. Or, rather, he tried. The instant he raised his hand, he felt himself going off balance, and had to slap his hand hastily back, in order to avoid tilting over. _What?! _Squeezing his eyes shut for a long moment, Inuyasha made sure his balance was secure, and started to reach up to his neck again. Immediately, his sense of balance went off again, and the hand went down. Not only that, but he realized that the motion of his arm seemed oddly restricted.

The bitch laughed. He tensed, ears flattening even further against his skull. "You haven't figured it out yet, have you, little puppy?" she said, sneering. "Your body thinks it's a dog."

Inuyasha froze. _Dog?!_ He tried to spread the fingers of his left hand. They barely moved. Setting himself, he lunged to his feet. His sense of balance swam sickeningly. He tried to stay upright, but his body refused, crumpling forward. He landed painfully on his good hand, barely avoiding making contact wit his bad hand. He swore, but the words came out in a series of snarls and barks.

He sank back into his crouch, trying not to shake. _I am not a dog!_ He wanted to scream. He wanted to lash out with his claws, he wanted to bite-no; he didn't want to bite! He wasn't a dog!

Water fell, cascading from one container to another. Inuyasha lifted his head, sniffing. Thirst swarmed into his awareness, and his body whined and took a three-legged stride forward before he could stop himself.

"Come here, puppy," said Tsubaki. "I know you're thirsty."

His body started to obey. Snarling, Inuyasha struggled to keep his limbs from moving. "That's an order, puppy," she said sharply. The collar tightened. Inuyasha gagged, and his mind swam for a long moment. When his thoughts cleared, he discovered himself limping forward, hunched over, moving on his toes and his hand.

"Here you go, puppy," he heard her say. The scent of water just in front of him and his thirst were overwhelming, and he felt his head lowering, his mouth open. Horrified, Inuyasha realized that she meant him to drink like a dog, lapping up the water with his tongue.

His scream of rage translated into a howl. With a convulsive lunge, he went up and over backwards, slamming down onto his bad hand. The fire that ran up his arm only fed the rage. He howled again, writhing, one leg reaching forward in instinct that was as much inu youkai as dog to claw at the collar. The collar tightened inexorably. He choked, unable to breathe, but refused to quit fighting, even as his thoughts began to blur. He would not be a dog! He--would--not!

* * *

Tsubaki studied the unconscious hanyo spilled on his side, motionless except for the heave of its ribs as the loosened collar allowed it to breathe again. "Not quite broken yet, are you, puppy?" she murmured. Walking to a position behind the limp body, she knelt. She began to stroke the silky bristle of hair on his skull. His ears twitched, and a very low growl came out of his throat. "You know it's me this time, don't you?" she asked the unconscious hanyo, continuing to pet him. "You'll learn, little puppy," she murmured, scratching gently behind one ear. "By the time I let Kikyo find you, you're going to be my dog, doing everything I say, without the collar forcing you." She glanced at his rump, where she had enchanted the object she had created from his hair and the bits of bone and flesh. "Even wag your tail."

A white, long-furred tail twitched. Rose. And fell.

She chuckled, and gently tugged on the ear.

"Good dog."


	17. Chapter 17: The Escape

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XVII: The Escape ...**

A hand covered his mouth. Startled from sleep, the dog bit. Blood flowed into his mouth, and someone gasped. "Inuyasha!" she said in a harsh whisper. "Inuyasha, don't you know me? It's Kikyo!"

The rest of him woke up. Ears swiveled, and he sniffed. A familiar, comforting scent washed through his nose. Kikyo? He realized that his mouth was filled with absolutely horrible-tasting blood, and that it must be hers. Shame and embarrassment flooded through him. He abruptly let go, flattening himself onto his stomach, flinging his good forepaw over his head, whining.

"Inuyasha?" Despite the whisper, she sounded shocked. "What's wrong? Why are you..." she trailed off, as unwilling to come to a conclusion. To his annoyance, Inuyasha realized that his body was still acting like a dog. Growling softly, he sat up. Looking for her face, he realized that his vision had still not completely healed. He could make out a dark mass against a greater darkness, but no detail.

A hand touched his shoulder. "Can you walk?" she whispered. "I cast a sleep spell, but I don't know how long it will last. We have to get out of here."

He glared at her. Leave the bitch?! If she was asleep, then they should go kill her. He growled, softly, turned his head towards where he sensed the partially collapsed building was, and then snapped his teeth together twice.

"No," she said firmly, evidently taking his meaning. "No killing. Now can you walk? I don't want to have to bring the horse up."

Inuyasha sighed, and stood up on his three more-or-less good limbs. Sniffing deeply, he searched for the scent of horse. Locating it, he started forward, anxious to be gone. If he couldn't go kill the bitch, the least they could do was leave, fast.

"Don't get ahead of me, Inuyasha," she whispered from behind him. "I don't want you spooking the horse. By the way, have you always had that tail?"

Inuyasha froze. Tail! He centered his attention on himself for a moment. Toes, feet, calves, knees, thighs-something touched the back of his thighs, something soft and furry. He imagined swatting his left thigh with a tail. Something smacked against his thigh, and he realized he was feeling something past the end of his backbone, something that felt like an extension of his spine, but which moved and had skin and muscles and fur-

A tail.

His body almost flattened itself again in embarrassment. He avoided that, but did feel the tail curve towards his belly. He whined, his ears lowering. Gods, bad enough the bitch was trying to kill him, but why did she have to humiliate him as well? He wouldn't mind a tail if he were able to transform into a demon dog like his father. But to have a tail added on to his mostly human appearance--! Another whine came out of his throat.

A hand reached down to scratch his ear. "Don't worry about it," said Kikyo. "We'll find a way to get it off."

He sniffed deeply and let her scent fill him. He sighed, relaxing a bit. Kikyo had come, and that was the important thing. Get free of this place, get somewhere safe, and then his Kikyo would find a way to free him. He could wait. As long as he was free and with her, he could wait...

Kikyo took the lead, and Inuyasha was content to pad along behind her. Embarrassments aside, he felt happier with every step. She had come. Kikyo had actually come and rescued him. What was the embarrassment of acting like a dog and having a tail, next to that? Someone actually cared enough about him to search for him and rescue him. The thought was pure bliss.

Unfortunately, the thought was also enough to almost set off the imposed 'dog' in him into an attempted prance, which would end up with a leap up onto Kikyo to lick her face. Keeping that desire suppressed took a considerable edge off the happiness.

The smell of horse became overwhelming. Straining, Inuyasha made out its form looming in the dark. "Can you jump onto her back, Inuyasha?" asked Kikyo anxiously. "If you can't mount normally..."

He carefully eased forward, sniffing, acutely aware of the fact that horses had big, very hard and heavy feet, and that he didn't want to get his hand (or his feet) stepped on. Rearing up, he let his hand land on the horse's side. Straining to see, he guessed that the horse's withers were actually about as high as his collarbone, if he were standing straight up. He sank down a little, then carefully jumped.

He estimated the amount of strength he needed accurately, landing on saddle. What he didn't allow for was the state of his ribs, as he came down. His half-healed ribs protested violently, and he gave a yelp of pain.

"Are you all right, Inuyasha?" The dog whimpered, not wanting to move, realizing that he was very awkwardly positioned, as either dog or human. "Look, get your leg over, then straighten up." He felt her push on his foot. With that to guide him, he managed to wriggle around, though not without a few whines and yelps. As he panted, half-sprawled over the horse's neck, he felt Kikyo mount behind him. Moments later, he felt her arm go around his waist.

"Here. Lean back on me," she instructed, pulling him back. "I'll hold you on."

He found himself leaning back against her, his tail tucked between his legs and apparently not equipped with pain nerves. As a half-human male, he didn't at all object to leaning back against her. As a dog, he was extremely uncomfortable. Dogs didn't perch on their rumps, leaning backwards. He had to fight the urge to squirm sideways to get off. Which rather spoiled things.

Her arm around his waist tightened. "There's a warded hut we can get to before dawn, but we'll have to hurry. I know it may hurt, but try not to move-I won't let you fall."

The horse lunged forward, breaking into a canter. At the first jump, Inuyasha realized what he was in for. Each stride the horse took jarred his body and every single partly healed bone in it. Within a dozen strides, he was glad that Kikyo was working to keep him on the horse. A few more dozen, and his teeth were ground together, with only a single thought in his mind, to endure the pain and not cry out.

If he succeeded, he didn't know. The nightmare ride continued until consciousness faded entirely. When he roused, it was to a cup pressed against his lips. He swallowed the liquid eagerly, not noticing until the second or third swallow-and then, not caring-that it was one of Kikyo's rather hideous plant brews. It was followed by a larger bowl of plain water, which was even more welcome. He sighed as she let his head down, feeling the analgesic herbs start to take effect-or perhaps it was just being able to relax into the relative comfort of a straw bed. "Thank-you, Kikyo," he whispered. "I—" His eyes flew open. "I can talk!" he exclaimed. "The collar—?"

"It's not off, but it appears that I managed to nullify at least part of its effects," she said.

"You did," he said with a sigh of relief. He was on his back, and not trying to squirm onto his side; he could talk. "Gods...she had my body thinking it was a dog..."

"Ah. I'd guessed that." Something moved into his range of vision; her face was badly blurred, but with the help of the firelight, he could at least tell that it was her face. And that she was smiling.

He reached up with his good hand to touch her face. Her skin was warm and soft, and he stroked it, being very careful of his claws. A knot tried to form in his throat, and his eyes burned-damn it, he was a hanyo! Hanyo's weren't supposed to cry! "Kik-yo..." His throat closed up then.

She gently pried his hand away from her face, and lowered it. "Inuyasha." Her face moved down. "My love."

She pressed her lips against his. Something like a shock ran through his body. He returned her kiss with interest, lifting his head, and freeing his hand to run it into her hair. She deepened the kiss, forcing his mouth open, rather to his surprise. He didn't object, but he found himself running out of breath. Breaking off, he let his head drop, then turned his head to avoid her mouth. "Heh, Kikyo," he panted. "I'm not up to this, yet. And don't we have things to talk about?"

"About what?" she asked, shifting position so that she was lying on her side, propped up on a elbow, leaning over him. "We can do that later," she whispered, using her free hand to stroke his face. "And don't worry about it—I can do all the work." She gave him a quick peck on her cheek. "And it's not like you don't want me."

He went crimson, perfectly well aware of his arousal, and of the fact that she could hardly miss it, given that he had nothing on top of him at all. "Of-of course I want you," he stammered a little, turning his face back so he could meet her eyes, blurry as his vision still was. "But how—we can't take the time now! Tsubaki will be searching for us as soon as she wakes up, and I—who knows what she can do with this collar-we've got to get it off!"

She only smiled at him. "We have time, lover. All the time we need."

He put his hand in the way of her lips, all of his instincts twanging. Something was wrong. Kikyo had never used the term 'lover': what he had heard that one time, that one kiss, that one embrace, was 'beloved'. And she wasn't this forward. She was a miko, and a very good one. When she was on the hunt, she exhibited the emotionless control and craft of a top predator-he'd been on the receiving end too often not to know that. It didn't make sense that she would drop that control now, not with an uninjured foe around, and someone (himself, damnit!) that needed protection.

And there was something else wrong, besides her behavior. Something that had been tickling the back of his mind since he woke up. Something odd, something that didn't fit.

She grasped his hand, intending to pull it away from his mouth. He resisted, as his eyes tried vainly to find anything wrong with that hand. He had bitten her on the hand, hard. This hand, he was certain, given the position he'd been lying in when she had awoken him, and what he remembered from the bite.

There was no mark.

And the blood had tasted—odd. He could not recall ever having tasted pure human blood. But he had tasted his own often enough, plus enough mortal beasts to know that there was little very difference in the taste of blood between his own and fur-bearing animals. A pure human's blood surely could not taste that much different.

She tried to move his hand down again. He caught her hand instead pulling it aside. He looked up at Kikyo, wishing that his vision had completely healed, so that he could really see her. He drew in a breath, and the scent was exactly like he remembered. But scent wasn't enough. "I'm sorry."

He dug a claw into her hand, piercing the skin. Letting go of her hand, he plunged a different claw into his own palm. Bringing his hand in front of his face, he examined the two droplets of blood. They might be fuzzy, but he could see color. And while one was a normal, blood red-his; the other was so dark as to be almost black. Licking his claws, this time he identified the foul taste.

Ink.

He stopped her attempt to kiss him, pushing her back

"You're not Kikyo."

"Of course I am, Inuyasha," she said, trying to move his hand from her shoulder. "I want you, and you want me—why are you hesitating?"

"Because you're not Kikyo. Because you're Tsubaki's puppet. Because this—this has all been an illusion. A pretty little play, created by your mistress." Part of him screamed in despair as he stated that, but he knew with a sure instinct that he was right. It had been too easy, and nothing in character. "You panting, rutting bitch," he added with a snarl.

Kikyo-Kikyo's duplicate-froze a long moment. Then she sighed. "Oh, Inuyasha," she said, sounding so like Kikyo that Inuyasha flattened his ears, wishing at that moment his hearing as as fuzzy as his vision. "This could have been so enjoyable for you. I was willing to give you that." He discovered that he could not move, as she bent down and kissed him gently.

"But, since you're not willing, I guess I'll just have to rape you."

"What?!"

He stared at 'Kikyo's' face in shock. "A woman, a woman can't—"

She laughed, and a shiver ran down his spine. Were her teeth suddenly pointed? "Oh, my, are you truly that innocent, little puppy? Never been raped? Never had sex?"

He stared at her, unable to answer. "Of course a woman can rape a man," she whispered, leaning over to sink her teeth-gently-into his lower lip. "She just has to be clever." She breathed against his face, nuzzling it. One hand reached up to scratch his ear. "And this one ... is strong, as well as clever."

She bit him, hard, and her teeth were indeed all pointed.

**... That Was Illusion**


	18. Chapter 18: Broken

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XVIII: Broken**

Tsubaki strolled into the yard, the sun well up. She felt better than she had ever imagined feeling. Filled with almost more power than she could imagine. And her body felt—if this is what men felt after a sexual experience, no wonder so many sought it incessantly, not caring what risk they put on the woman.

It had been a moment of pure inspiration, the day before, when a bitter thought had come up, as to how easy it would have been to humiliate the hanyo, had their genders been switched. Women were so easy to rape; so easy for a strong man to force himself on her, to laugh at her cries, and to walk away. It had been then that the thought occurred to her, that a clever, magically strong woman could surely figure out how to rape a man. It wasn't as if men couldn't be raped—she'd overheard some of her father's men talking once, though as a child, she had had no idea what they were saying. For that matter, with the proper knowledge and daring, she suspected that any two or three women, working together, could rape a man.

Depending on how they did it, there would, of course, always be the potential for—consequences. But she had been clever, creating her puppet, her duplicate of Kikyo. A shikigami that could be linked very closely to her own body, so that she could feel everything the shikigami experienced, if so she desired. A bit of a risk, if someone managed to destroy the shikigami while she was linked to it. But the results!

She smiled at the hanyo lying at her feet. He was curled on his side in a tight ball, his new tail tucked between his legs. Dried blood and bruises haphazardly decorated his body. Tsubaki wondered what the experience would have been like, if the hanyo hadn't discovered the illusions. It would have been amusing to see his reaction when he'd realized that he had willingly coupled with a fake Kikyo. But, she decided that she would probably still have preferred his screams.

"Wake up, puppy," she said.

The hanyo's ears twitched, and then flattened as the rest of his body tensed. "Stand up."

He whined as his body obeyed. He stood with his head hanging, and his right hand still off the ground, his tail still curled protectingly forward. "Come here." Slowly, he obeyed. "Sit." He did so. "Now, look at me."

Slowly, slowly his head came up. He glared at her, baring his teeth and snarling. But she could see the fear he could no longer hide. She smirked. "The little puppy looks afraid this morning. Didn't he have a very good night?"

He sprang at her, rage flashing into his eyes. He bounced off her shields, tumbling onto the rain-soaked grass. Rolling over, he scrambled back to his legs and hand, crouching, snarling his defiance. Tsubaki only smiled. "Be still," she ordered him, before calling out. "Kikyo. Bring the shouki whip and come out here."

The duplicate came out moments later. Tsubaki watched the hanyo's eyes – about the only part of him that could move, widen as he stared at the duplicate and the whip, which was glowing a dull purple from the demonic miasma she had imbued it with. "Kikyo," she said, not moving her eyes away from the trapped hanyo, "this puppy needs a lesson. Ten strokes, I think. Slowly."

"Of course, mistress," said Kikyo's voice. She walked over to the hanyo, and petted his head. "I do wish you would learn to behave, dear Inuyasha." The hanyo shivered, trying to shrink away without moving. Stepping back, the puppet obeyed her mistress, delivering ten blows with an arm that was stronger than any human. Tsubaki watched as the hanyo shuddered under each blow, blood spraying from each cut, the welts turning purple as his flesh absorbed the poison. Finishing, the duplicate coiled the whip back up, ignoring the blood that smeared her fingers. Moving alongside the shaking hanyo, she stroked his head again, streaking the silver plush. "Be good, Inuyasha."

When the shikigami returned to her side, Tsubaki ran through the same set of orders as before. Staggering, sweat streaking down his face and blood dripping from his back, Inuyasha obeyed. He looked up at her with eyes dulled with pain, but a bit of defiance remained as he bared his teeth at her, this time in silence. Tsubaki smiled down at him, savoring the next bit. "You know I've been tracking Kikyo, after having tricked her into going the wrong direction?"

His eyes widened as his snarl vanished, and fear flashed across his face. Slowly, he nodded. "I checked early this morning. The object I used to trick her hadn't changed position since yesterday. When I sent my scout youkai to check, it reported human blood, death, and miko power." His face paled. "Kikyo is dead, hanyo. A pity it wasn't me who killed her, but well, I still have you. Don't I?"

She watched his eyes glaze over, as a shudder ran down his frame. After that, he froze, eyes focused on nothing, not even his ears moving. Time seemed to stretch, as she waited for his reaction. Any reaction.

Without warning, he reared up with a howl. The howl turned into a scream as his youki pulsed, shattering nearly every spell in the collar. Screaming Kikyo's name, he jumped at her, his eyes utterly mad, claws suddenly sprouting on his right fingers. Her shields held as his golden claws sought to shred them, but just barely. She screamed out the words to invoke the choking spell, instinctively ducking as his claws struck again. The maddened hanyo staggered, hands clawing at the collar for a moment. Then, to her shock, he returned to his attack on her shields. They shattered under his blow, and she dove forward, the claws barely missing her. She hit the ground and rolled, hands flung up, crackling with power, though she knew it would be useless. Then she saw the hanyo stagger as the Kikyo duplicate landed on his back, driving her teeth into his shoulder, clawing at him. Pulled off balance, he fell backwards, pinning the puppet underneath. He went limp.

"Mistress, should I punish him?" asked the puppet, as she wriggled out from under the hanyo. "He was very bad, to attack you."

"Not yet," replied Tsubaki, getting up to her hands and knees. She released the choking spell, then half-walked, half-crawled over to the hanyo. She waited until she saw his chest heave as he gasped for breath, then picked up the right hand, verifying what she'd thought she'd seen. The claws didn't look nearly as long as she thought they had when he had leaped at her, but they were definitely back. She grimaced for that reminder of the hanyo's healing ability, and then checked the collar. The three strongest spells were still present, though they would not survive another such burst of youki until their shields were strengthened. She sighed. The hanyo was making so much work for her. Worth it, but still.

He stirred, eyelids fluttering. Quickly, she invoked the paralysis spell that stopped voluntary motions below the neck. He growled, ears slanting backwards. Reaching over, she forced him to turn his head to look at her. "Aren't you going to cry for your beloved?" she taunted him. "Or maybe a hanyo can't really love."

The hanyo stared at her, momentary surprise turning to shock and then anguish. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"It's just as well, you know," she added. "Do you really think she would have loved you, if it hadn't been for my spell? Do you really think anyone could ever love a hanyo, without help? A filthy, disgusting mixture of human and youkai?" He made a small sound in his throat, and she smiled. "You ought to be glad Kikyo's dead, hanyo. Now she won't be humiliated for loving a hanyo. She won't be outcast, for being weak enough to fall a thing that could never deserve her. She won't be laughed at, for smiling at a hanyo. She won't be whipped out of the village when she's caught kissing a hanyo. She won't get her throat slit because she sullied herself by coupling with a hanyo."

"Stop it," he whispered, eyes filming over. "It's not true. It's not true!"

"Isn't it?" she asked, leaning over him, "You know you don't deserve to be loved, don't you? You don't deserve kindness. You don't deserve friendship."

"You—you're wrong." A tear trailed down from either eye, and she smiled cruelly down at his desperate, agonized expression. "I—Kik-yo—"

"No, I'm not," she told him. "The only thing a hanyo deserves is pain. Humiliation. Fear. And if you don't believe that, then perhaps you need another lesson—Kikyo."

"Don't call her Kikyo!" the hanyo screamed.

She smirked at him. "Why not? She's the only Kikyo you really deserve." She addressed the puppet dressed in the white and red miko robes, without bothering to look up. "I think the hanyo needs another lesson, Kikyo. Take him into the west room and give him one. You did a superb job last night, I'm sure you don't need any suggestions."

She caught a last glimpse of horror on his face as the puppet picked him up. Bearing the hanyo easily, 'Kikyo' vanished around the corner of the house. Getting to her feet, Tsubaki watched the youkai swarming over the ruined section of the house for a few moments, then sauntered over and sat on the raised wall surrounding the well. Letting down the small bucket, she raised it back up and set it on the rim. She smiled at her perfect reflection as the muffled screams came. Later, she smiled again as the expressionless puppet returned for instructions, trailing faint sobs in her wake.

Breaking a spirit was so much more satisfying than simply breaking a body.


	19. Chapter 19: The Kikyos

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XIX: The Kikyos**

"That's enough for today," announced Tsubaki. "Kikyo, go take the puppy for a walk."

Inuyasha opened his eyes as the 'pull' at the center of his being faded, feeling the release of the paralysis spell. Swallowing against nausea, he shakily pushed himself to a seated position, trying to keep as much weight off of his throbbing hands as possible. Letting his aching head hang, the hanyo heard the approach of the puppet, and tried not to cringe as its hand stroked his clipped hair. "Let's go, Inu," said the puppet in a bright, cheery voice. "I'm sure you want to go chase some butterflies."

Gods, not again. The whine got out despite his best intentions. "Oh, now don't start that!" said the puppet petulantly, grabbing one of his ears and twisting it. "You know very well, that you love chasing butterflies! And I love watching you chase butterflies! It's a lot better than some of the other things we could do together! Isn't it?"

Part of him wanted to jerk away and leap for her throat. But the rage was too weak. His body whimpered as he turned his head in an effort to relieve the pain. Immediately, she released him, petting his head again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get mad at you. Now let's to chase some butterflies, shall we?"

He wanted to snarl defiance at her, but all that came out of his throat was the small yip that was what she wanted to hear, that might keep her from hurting him, this time. "I knew you wanted to," he heard her voice say happily. "Let's go!"

Rising to all fours, Inuyasha followed the puppet, fighting to keep the whimpers of pain locked in his throat as his bleeding fingers howled with every hand-step, as the scars and fresh burns on his back sent aches or sharp stabs with every motion. He wanted—desperately—to just drop and curl up, and refuse to move. But the last time he had done that, the dark priestess had taunted him with giving up, asking him if he was ready to beg to die. Something inside him had dragged him back to his feet, lifted his head, and drawn his lips back in a snarl.

It was the only thing left to him. He wasn't going to beg.

Ogres couldn't make him beg.

His own damned brother couldn't make him beg.

No youki-wielding priestess was going to make him beg, either.

Even if it didn't matter, any more.

Inuyasha hesitated at the edge of the porch, looking down at the steep handful of steps. His imposed 'dog' self hated going down steps. He reached down with his hand, but then his 'rear' feet shoved him from the porch in a jump. He landed awkwardly on his left hand, wrenching a yelp out of his throat as pain spasmed up his arm. Panting, he held still, waiting for the pain to ease before taking another step forward. Too late, he sensed the puppet coming back, and could not repress the cringe as she touched him.

"Stop that," she told him gently, in Kikyo's voice. Kikyo's scent filled his nose. "You know I can hurt you much worse than this." Knife-sharp fingernails dug into his neck, and he howled as the poison in those nails seared his nerves. "That's better," she said, petting his head again, even as he shivered in the aftermath. "Now come along, my love," she continued, gently tugging on his ear. "I want to watch you play."

He staggered after her, his stomach churning and his eyes blurring as the poison spread. He felt the transition from shadow to sunlight, and felt the ground change from packed dirt to grass and flowers. "There!" said the puppet, pleased excitement in her voice. "See the butterflies?" The hanyo lifted his head, straining to see. A spot of color danced in front of him. A butterfly? Or just illusion? He didn't know. Not that it really mattered. The dog spell seemed to strengthen, and he made no effort to resist. His tail wagged, and then, with a yip, his body reared, balancing precariously on his 'hind' legs. His body jumped, trying to bite the speck of color. It jumped again. And barked. And jumped again.

She laughed. "You're such a funny dog!"

It wasn't Kikyo, he told himself.

Tried to tell himself.

Kikyo was dead.

His body dog-danced and yipped. His vision blurred.

What thought was left to him pretended it was just the poison.

* * *

Kikyo opened her eyes slowly, half-afraid of setting off her aching head. The light was dim; she blinked slowly, trying to figure out where she was. The wooden beam of a rafter came into focus, and she became aware of the soft rattle of a bamboo curtain against a doorframe, and an vagrant scent of sun-warmed grass. An insistent throb in her leg joined her aching head and aching shoulder, and she realized that she was hurt. How, she didn't remember. 

"You're awake, finally. Here, drink this."

She accepted the potion without grimacing more than a little. Plain water followed, satisfying a thirst she hadn't noticed. When the second bowl pulled away, she tongued her upper lip, and then tested her voice by naming the herbs she'd identified in the potion.

The rusty chuckle of an older woman responded. "Nice to know that that knock on your head didn't scatter your knowledge, miko-sama. Do you remember your name?"

"Kikyo, daughter of Teruo and Chie. From Yasuo's village, on the bank of the Gotama, near the falls, in Edo prefecture."

"Very good, child." The woman chuckled again. "Now, what can you last remember?"

Kikyo found herself hesitating. "I…" What _had_ she been doing? Searching for something, someone—_Inuyasha!_ She gasped, and might have flung herself upwards, save for the hand on her shoulder, and the flick of awareness that trying to sit up at the moment would be a very bad idea. She closed her eyes against sudden tears. "Oh, gods," she whispered. "How many days has it been? I—I remember: I'm pushing the horse, if I can get to the village before dark, I'll trade horses. It's starting to rain, and I know I should slow down, but I've got to get to him! Then something spooks the horse, and she shies, and, I—I – what happened?"

"I fear that I did, miko-sama," said a male voice. Turning her head carefully, Kikyo looked up. A young monk, head shaved bare, gave her a wry smile. "It's my fault, really, lovely lady," he said. "I heard your horse approaching at a gallop, and hoped I could get out of the wet more quickly. Shameful—that I, a monk, should be so selfish as to dislike being wet. I fear I over-estimated the distance, and quite startled your horse when I stepped out. She slipped and fell: I feared you had broken your head as well as your leg, but Shika here assured me that there was no break in the skull, only badly rattled brains." He gathered her hand into his. "I do pray that you'll forgive me for your accident, my lovely Kikyo-sama. I could never forgive myself, had I caused your death. Do say you'll forgive me?"

She blinked at him, nonplussed by his words and by his hands on hers. Lovely? "I forgive you, of course, houshi-sama," she whispered. "If I hadn't been so anxious—," her throat closed as she remembered why she had been forcing the pace. "Please. How-how many days has it been? My friend—he was captured by a dark priestess. I was trying to find him…" Tears filled her eyes and she closed them again.

"It's the fourth day since Miyatsu-sama brought you here," said the old woman. "You were feverish until this morning."

Four days. Kikyo closed her eyes more tightly, against tears. What must Inuyasha think? Would he believe she had abandoned him? Was he even still alive—gods, how many days—six? Seven? "My bags," she said. "The one with the red robes—please, may I have them?"

There was a moment of silence. "Those robes—they're made from fire-rat fur," said Miyatsu. "Youkai. You did know that, didn't you?"

"Of course I know," Kikyo said. "My friend's mother gave them to him. Now, please."

"Of course, miko-sama," said the woman. "Houshi-sama, please keep her from sitting up." With a grunt, the woman stood up and walked away. Kikyo felt the monk place her hand gently back on top of her chest.

"Your powers are very strong," observed the monk after a few moments. "I've heard that there was a miko in the area, who had been given a very powerful jewel to purify."

"The Shikon No Tama," she admitted. "Yes. It's been destroyed."

"Ah. Good." She felt his gaze, and realized that the monk was not without considerable powers himself. "Your friend…he's not youkai, is he?"

"Of course not." Kikyo felt a tremor of fear.

He sighed. "I wondered when you asked for them—there's a remarkable amount of youki emanating from those robes. Fire rats must be more powerful than I'd realized, if just their fur can give off that much energy." When she said nothing, he continued. "You said that your friend was captured by a dark priestess?" She very carefully nodded. "You're going to need help, then—you're not going to be able to walk on that leg for at least a month, and I doubt that Shika will let you ride for several days."

_Days? _"I can't wait that long—he can't wait!" Kikyo clenched her fists. "He already almost died once, because of me—I can't let him die!"

"You love him."

She opened her eyes and stared at him. The monk had a rueful expression. "I—yes," she said after a moment, another tremor of fear whispering through her brain, dreading what would happen when and if the monk learned of Inuyasha's mixed blood.

He sighed, and gave her a gallant smile. "Alas, that I found you too late, beautiful miko-sama! However, do not fear for your beloved—I will help you defeat this dark priestess and free him, though—" his smile disappeared as he grew thoughtful, "I wonder, is this dark priestess beautiful?" She stared at him, startled. He chuckled. "Oh, do not mind my musings, lovely miko-sama—it is but my curse to appreciate all women of beauty. Never fear—you will be reunited with your love, and I promise not to be jealous of him." He took her hand again, stroking it lightly. "Do say that you will accept my help?"

Kikyo stared at the monk, disturbed and worried. She had never encountered a man who so openly admired her appearance, or who was so quick to touch her. His behavior was totally unlike that of any other monk or priest she had ever met. She was afraid of his reaction, when he discovered Inuyasha was only half-human. But she needed help, if she were to have any chance. And the monk was powerful.

Hoping that she wasn't making a mistake, she told him yes.

* * *

Tsubaki smiled as she heard the yips and barks change to yelps and whimpers, and an occasional howl. When not under her direct control, the Kikyo puppet's behavior was intentionally erratic, petting or punishing the hanyo with no rhyme or reason. She doubted that even the hanyo could stand up to that long, before either going crazy, or breaking completely and begging for mercy. Either way, at that point, she would be ready to take him back to the village, to humiliate him before the people he had saved, the people who had dared consider helping a hanyo.

"M-mistress?"

Looking up, she saw Yukuuku at the peeking into to her workroom. She smiled at the tanuki. "Good morning, Yukuuku. You brought the food I asked for?"

The black-masked female nodded, gulping. "Y-yes, m-mistress, in the basket." The edge of a basket appeared as she raised a hand. "I-I-I m-made i-it j-just l-like you o-ordered."

Tsubaki's gaze turned thoughtful as she studied the stammering tanuki. "What are you afraid of, Yukuuku?" she asked.

The tanuki started. "N-n-nothing, m-mistress!"

She raised her eyebrow. "Please, Yukuuku, do not lie to me." Tilting her head slightly, she saw that the tanuki was shivering. A howl of pain came from outside: the tanuki flinched. Tsubaki sighed and shook her head. "You do not need to be afraid of me, Yukuuku. You are serving me very well; I am pleased with you."

"Th-thank-you, m-mistress," stuttered the tanuki. "B-but, th-th-the hanyo…"

Tsubuki gave a slight nod. "The hanyo destroyed something of great power, that should have been mine. He deserves his suffering."

The tanuki only looked confused as well as frightened. "I-I-I d-don't understand. Y-you w-were tr-treating him like a-a g-guest, b-b-but now, th-th-that thing, th-th-the w-way it-it h-hurts him—w-why?"

"It's a human need, I suppose," said Tsubaki after a moment of consideration. She leaned back, letting her hands trail down to her thighs. She smiled thinly. "It doesn't satisfy me, just to kill him. Or just to draw all his youki from him. I hate him. I want him to suffer. I want him to be humiliated. I want him to crawl on the ground and beg me for mercy."

"B-but wh-what if h-he breaks f-free?" Yukuuku asked. "He-he'll kill you."

"He won't kill me," said Tsubaki. "He's broken spells several times, but he's been able neither to attack me or escape. Don't worry about me. He can't hurt me."

"Yes, mistress." The tanuki seemed to relax somewhat, though her ears were still shivering. "Where—should I leave the basket?"

"On the porch, please. And thank-you again."

Yukuuku bowed and left. Tsubaki sighed and looked down at her work, making a grimace. As much power as she had pulled from the hanyo, she still didn't have enough to ensure the permanent youth and beauty she craved. If only she could figure out how to break that seal on his full powers! The seal was weakened, she was certain—it had felt distinctly weaker since his last escape attempt. But nothing she had tried, so far, had seemed to have any effect.

Setting aside the sense of frustration, Tsubaki decided to take a break from her work. Standing up and leaving her workroom, she strolled to the porch that faced the grassy clearing where the puppet and Inuyasha were 'playing.' Spotting them, the dark priestess stared for a moment. And then she began to laugh. It was perfect! Perfect!

She laughed and laughed, leaning against the wall, holding her ribs.

So perfect!


	20. Chapter 20: Despair

**Author's Note: **Apologies for being a bit slow--holidays are distracting. Just want to note that I corrected the name of the monk (and yes, he is the character who is Miroku's grandfather in the 'real' timeline). I thought he had never been given a name, then discovered that he is called 'Miyatsu' in the second anime movie.So I corrected the last chapter, and this one.

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XX: Despair**

Kikyo insisted on sitting up when Shika brought her food. Miyatsu helped her, his storm-blue eyes concerned. Her head pounded and her vision swam at first, but slowly the dizziness faded, and she was able to handle the bowl of soup by herself. A pair of rice-balls wrapped with thin slices of fish followed, and then, to her surprise and delight, the monk presented her with a bowl of orange sections. The pieces of sweet, tangy fruit were as wonderful as she remembered from her one previous experience with the expensive fruit. She nibbled slowly, enjoying them as best she could, striving not to think of anything except the actual experience. Spitting the last of the seeds into the bowl, she sat it on the floor, and smiled at the kneeling monk. "Thank-you, Miyatsu-dono. That was very generous of you."

He smiled back, his eyes twinkling. "A single orange does not even begin to count as generosity towards one as beautiful as you, miko-sama. I would shower you with oranges, did I believe it would gain me even one kiss from your lips."

She blushed. "Showering me with oranges at the moment would do nothing for my head," she observed.

He laughed. "Alas, I must rethink my approach—such a practical maiden you are!" Then he shook his head, dropping his merriment. "And, in truth, we should discuss more serious matters. If you are up to it?"

Kikyo found herself relaxing a bit as he dropped the banter. "Yes." She reached out and touched the bag beside her, though she made no effort to touch it contents. One brief touch had been enough. "I have to find him, as soon as possible. She tricked me; I went the wrong direction for two days. I can't stay here waiting for my head or my leg to heal."

Miyatsu frowned a bit. "I don't quite understand why this dark priestess bothered to kidnap your friend. If she's good, she could torment and kill him from a distance."

"He destroyed something she wanted very badly," Kikyo said, raising a hand to rub gently at her aching shoulder.

"You said you went in the wrong direction. Do you know where she is now? I tried earlier to sense a direction, but her aura must still be beyond my range."

"Yes, I have—" she looked down and realized she was not wearing her own clothes, "—had a direction finder, linked to In—to my friend. It was a piece of lacing taken from his kimono: I had it tucked into my sash before the accident."

"I'll ask Shika later—she took the clothes to have them washed. Now, about this dark priestess?"

Kikyo sighed, shifting position a bit, wishing her head and leg would stop throbbing. "Her name is Tsubaki. We fought last year, when she tried to kill me and take the Shikon No Tama…"

* * *

She was braiding his tail. 

Inuyasha lay half on his side, half on his stomach, forepaws over his head, ears lowered in utter humiliation. The thing that looked, smelled, and sounded like Kikyo was giggling to herself, her hands busy braiding the hairs of his enchanted tail. He had tried to dodge her hands when she had expressed her intention, but a swipe of her knife-sharp, envenomed fingernails across his lower back had sent his hind legs collapsing.

"Lovely, lovely, lovely," she caroled softly to herself, and Inuyasha felt his ears trying to sink lower, while his insides churned. The puppet was crazy. She had attacked him in mid-leap while he was 'chasing butterflies', pummeling him with fists glowing with spiritual power, that burned him with every touch, all the while scolding him—in a voice that sounded like Kikyo at her gentlest—for wanting to eat the butterflies. He had tried to warn her off, snarling, ears flattened, but the puppet hadn't seemed to notice, knocking him over with a fist, hitting him in the face, in the ribs, in the stomach, over and over, until, between one eye-blink and the next, she had changed again, and announced that his tail was cute and she wanted to play with it and braid his hair.

And he couldn't attack her. He'd tried, when he'd snarled at her, when she hit him. But he hadn't been able to make himself jump the thing that looked and smelled and sounded like Kikyo. He couldn't make himself hate her. He couldn't make himself angry. The thing confused him, and terrified him, and all he wanted to do was escape.

Laughter came from the house. Inuyasha's ears flicked upright, then lowered again, as another stab of humiliation sank into him. The bitch was laughing at him. At his helplessness. As his humiliation.

Anger tried to stir. He tried to feel rage; urged his youkai blood to start burning at the insult to his pride.

Except that he had no pride. It was gone: shattered. Fighting back would gain him nothing, and he was so tired. Kikyo—his Kikyo—was gone. Dead. Gone. Lost. He hadn't been there to protect her, to save her.

There was nothing left to fight with. Nothing left to fight for.

He was only a hanyo.

* * *

Breathless, Tsubaki finally managed to stop laughing. Breathing deeply to still the last of the giggles, the dark priestess examined the scene a second time. The thought that occurred to her then stopped the last of the desire to laugh, as she realized that the hanyo hadn't stirred. He hadn't tried to attack her; he hadn't looked at her, hadn't growled. 

One eyebrow rising thoughtfully, Tsubaki stepped off the porch, picking up the basket. 'Kikyo' instantly stopped what she was doing, looking up at her creator, face as placid and unchanging as it always was when Tsubaki was not linked with her. The hanyo twitched an ear in her direction, but only for a moment. Slowly, she walked towards him, watching for the slightest move, taking careful note of his condition. He was thin, ribs showing and his shoulder blades standing out on his back. The purple-tinged wounds on his lower back were still oozing, while bruises darkened burn-blistered skin. Yellowing bruises and purple scars of various shades marked older torments. His hands were covered with drying blood mingled with dirt. She wrinkled her nose a little as she realized how filthy he had become over the last several days. She'd have to have that taken care of, before she took him back to that village. But there were other things to do first.

She toed him in the side, and he flinched and whimpered, though she'd barely touched him. She smiled. "Decided to quit fighting, puppy?" she asked. His ears twitched, then sank back to their lowered positions. "Kikyo hasn't been too rough, has she?" His arms and hands tensed, but he did not otherwise respond. Smirking, she strolled over to the puppet and handed her the basket.

"Make sure the puppy eats at least half," she told her. "If he resists, you can pull out a fang and see how long it takes him to regrow it. Then get him and yourself cleaned up. If he resists, hurt him, but don't spill blood. The clothing will be in the next room when you are finished."

"Yes, mistress," murmured the puppet.

* * *

The poison from the puppet's claws had generally left Inuyasha more nauseated than hungry, and prone to vomit right back up what little food the puppet managed to force down his throat. But as the puppet opened up the basket, the scent of the food infiltrated his nose, and his mouth began to water. Venison. Cooked venison. It was combined with other things he didn't recognize, but the overall scent was too enticing for his famished body to resist. He managed to make a token resistance, refusing the temptation to lunge forward and bury his muzzle in the basket. But when 'Kikyo' held a piece before him, he sniffed once, then gave in and took it from her fingers. He chewed, discovering that the venison had been chopped and rolled into a ball with other ingredients, which weren't worth the effort of trying to identify. He swallowed, and realized that the puppet was holding out another piece. He hesitated, but he was hungry, and, what did humiliation matter, any more, when his pride was gone? Dropping his hands to the ground, Inuyasha shifted position so he was propped up on his elbows. Then he accepted the next piece, and the next after that, eyes half-closed, trying to ignore the dull, stinging thread of mortification. 

His shrunken stomach soon had as much as it could take. Whining, he turned his head away from the next offering, dropping back down to a fully prone position, dully hoping that the puppet would for once be reasonable and not punish him for simply being unable to eat more. He cringed when he felt her fingers on his ear, but she only tugged gently. "Get up, puppy. Time to get washed."

He groaned, pushing himself to his four feet. Hind legs still feeling numbed and shaky, he stood still a moment. A harder tug on his ear started him moving forward, sore-footed and staggering a little. By the time he arrived in the bathing room, he was beginning to feel—odd. He blinked dazed eyes as the first bucket of water was dashed over him, and did not feel even a slight temptation to shake it off. The puppet attacked his body with brush and soap. That hurt, but he could find no energy to move, even when she scrubbed his forepaws or touched his privates. He stood there, dripping, as more water was dashed over him, and didn't stir, even as one very tiny part noticed that the puppet had removed her clothing and was cleaning herself. He was half-smothered in cloth and toweled dry, roughly enough to make him whimper, then led into another room.

Something seemed to drop away. Inuyasha blinked, feeling a bit of his stupor fade. "Get dressed, hanyo—she decided to let you not be a dog for a while."

He started, and lifted his head. The puppet smirked at him, clothed in an untied kimono that barely came down to her thighs. Discomfited and bewildered, he looked away. Raising one hand, he spread his fingers, wincing at the pain and feeling the stiffness of muscles that had not been able to move for days. Moving carefully, he stood up. For a long moment, his head swam with dizziness, while his calf muscles and feet cramped. Something kept him from toppling, until his senses steadied, then turned him slightly. Opening his eyes, he saw a set of robes folded neatly on a tall chest. Hesitantly, he reached for them, hearing a small giggle behind him, then the rustling of clothes. His tail twitched, and he wondered vaguely how he was supposed to dress with that appendage in the way.

The tail had been allowed for, he discovered. But the awareness was a passing thought, buried under a flood of sensations as he dressed. He had dressed in silk before, but when had it been so soft on his skin? Why did it feel so—good as it moved over his skin? Why was he feeling—warmer? And what was that—smell? Some sort of incense; it stung his nose a little, but it was making him—warm. Excited. He found himself sliding one sleeve of his kimono up and down his arm, reveling in the softness, when she spoke.

"That tanuki is a very clever beast, isn't she?"

Inuyasha turned, a part of him abruptly rousing from his daze. The puppet, fully dressed, in a fine silk version of Kikyo's miko robes, smiled at him. But it wasn't the vacuous, erratic spirit that made that smile. Another looked out of those brown eyes, which glittered with malice and smugness, and something more. The puppet's smiled widened. "Tanuki are well known for their sexual prowess, are they not? And it didn't surprise me, when I persuaded her to talk, that tanuki don't always rely just on—nature." She took a step forward. Inuyasha backed up, a thread of fear choking his throat. "Did you like the food? Drugged, of course. Do you like the incense? Very arousing, isn't it?" He took another step back, and found himself against a wall. "No, you can't escape," she said, as he tried to turn and break through the wall. She smiled, moving closer. "No escape for the hanyo who destroyed my Shikon No Tama." She touched his chest, then slid her hand underneath his kimono, slowly sliding it up along his skin to his neck. He shivered, his groin tightening despite the fear gripping him. "No escape for the hanyo who killed my darling Kuroshin." Curving her hand around his neck, she drew his head down, delivering a light kiss to his lips. "No escape for the hanyo who dared think he was good enough to love a miko." She kissed him again, then lowered her hand to his upper arm. The other hand rose, and she rubbed both silken sleeves up and down against his skin. He whimpered. "I've changed the spell, you know," she breathed, one hand moving down to press lightly against his hakama. "I control the body now, not just feel what it does." He flinched as her hand went between his legs. "And since I prefer the feel of silk to straw or cotton…" She let her hand drift up, slowly, then began to caress his arms with the silk again. "Lovely sensation, isn't it?" she murmured, smirking. "The drug helps with that, you know. Enhances sensation. Of course, it enhances more than pleasurable sensations…

Inuyasha screamed and crashed to his knees as she drove a single envenomed claw into his wrist. Just the puncture sent pain searing up his arm, but then the poison started working into his nerves and blood, sending agony streaking up his arm with every beat of his heart. He fought against crying out, alternately gasping for breath and grinding his teeth together as the pain flared, then faded as his youkai blood neutralized the poison. A hand stroked the short plush of hair on his head, then scratched behind an ear. "Poor little hanyo," she murmured. "Do you regret ever hearing of the Shikon No Tama? Now, come along." She pulled him to his feet; he didn't try to resist. "Kikyo does a good job at raping you. But you'll find I do much better. Why not relax? You might enjoy it. Some of it…"

* * *

His scream and her shriek of ecstasy twined together, and then Tsubaki found herself totally back in her own self, panting and sweak-soaked, shuddering with the aftermath of her climax. The room was dark, but the power she had pulled from the hanyo was almost visible to the physical eye. Calling on her will, she forced the youki eddying around her to shrink and coalesce into the knife that had absorbed the rest of the power she had pulled from the hanyo. Contemplating the glowing knife, she grimaced. Still not enough power for her needs. She still hadn't broken that seal on his full youkai blood. Sighing, she turned her attention back to the link with the puppet's body. 

She had pulled the hanyo's limp organ out of her body and was examining the bleeding thing, running a clawtip through one of the slashes. Taking control, Tsubaki smiled thinly. She had changed her puppet a bit that morning, adding a bit of spell-work, so that anything entering between her legs would be slashed as if she were made of broken glass. She wondered if men had nightmares about such a thing. They could be so vulnerable. If men weren't stronger than women; if women could control when they became pregnant, it would be such a different world…

Tossing the thought away with a grimace, Tsubaki brought the puppet to her feet, and walked over to a small chest. A small wax ball held under his nose, torn open with a fingernail, brought him around with a fit of sneezes, that turned into a strangled scream as his pain registered. He writhed onto his side, then onto his hands and knees as he sought the least painful position. Chuckling, she reached out and scratched an ear. He ducked away from her.

"Please," he rasped, his voice hoarse from screaming. "Don't touch me."

"What? You didn't enjoy it?"

He whimpered, shrinking away, shoulders shaking. "Please." His voice broke, and she saw a tear drop to the blood-dappled futon. "I'll do—I'll do whatever you want. Just don't—just don't—" An audible sob came from his throat.

Tsubaki smiled. "Poor little puppy." She reached out and petted his head, ignoring his efforts to move away. "Going to do everything I want now, hmmm?"

He only whimpered, as the tears continued to fall.


	21. Chapter 21: The Hunt Begins

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XXI: The Hunt Begins **

Her headache was mostly gone when she woke up. Carefully sitting up, Kikyo pulled back the cover and pulled up kimono to examine her broken leg. The lower leg was splinted; somewhat to her surprise, she saw that someone had taken the time to wrap her leg with a cushion of combed cotton held in place by a wrapping of undyed cotton bandages, before strapping on the splints. The wood slabs had not just been cut to the proper length, but someone had taken the time to smooth away splinters and round the ends.

Pulling up the cloth further, she examined her thigh by look and touch. The outer leg was badly bruised, but she could live with that easily enough. She was still examining her leg when a male voice bid her good morning.

She started with an undignified squeak, and then grabbed the cover and pulled it to her waist. "Don't do that!" she exclaimed, flinging her head up to stare at the monk, cheeks heating. "Sneaking up like that!"

His eyes laughed at her, though he tried to hide a smile. "I noticed when I help Shika several days ago to set your bones, that you have very beautiful legs, miko-sama. Don't worry, I won't tell a soul."

She reddened further, but before she could say anything, he leaned over and set a small table beside her. "Next time, I will stomp," he added, sinking gracefully to a kneeling position. "How's your head?"

"Much better," Kikyo said, her blush starting to fade. She looked over the contents of the small table, and selected a shallow bowl filled with liquid. As she suspected, it was willow-bark tea. She tested the strength with a small sip, then drained the small bowl. "Where is Shika?" she asked, reaching for the tall cup of regular tea.

"Called out to assist a birthing," he replied blandly. "Just before dawn, and a first birth, I understand." He paused. "Fortunate for us, I think."

Kikyo eyed him sharply, warming her hands on the cup. "What are you talking about?"

He gave her a slight smile. "I've negotiated with the headman for a horse—yours is fine, save for a slight limp, which he assures me she will walk out, as long as you don't push her. He understands the urgency of your mission: with Shika occupied elsewhere, we should be able to slip away without a fuss."

Kikyo blinked. "You're … coming with me? Why?"

"How can I possibly allow a beautiful, injured woman to take all the burdens of her quest on her own fragile shoulders?" he declaimed with a sly grin. Then he turned serious. "I'd been hearing rumors about a dark priestess, as well as the talk about demonic activity. Even if she still thinks you're dead, you'll be at a disadvantage coming up against her, especially if she's put youkai under her control. So I'm coming with you."

Something within her gave a cry of relief, and for a moment, her eyes burned. "Thank-you," she whispered, fighting the threat of tears by raising her cup and drinking. She was still afraid of what would happen when he discovered the rescueé was hanyo. But the thought that she would not be facing Tsubaki alone, when she herself was injured and Inuyasha's life in peril from the dark priestess' hands—the burden of fear was more than she had realized.

"I'm sure you can find a way to repay me," he said, in a rougish tone of voice that made her glare at him over the edge of her cup. "Especially if your—friend—isn't the jealous type."

"I would not suggest trying to make him jealous," she replied coolly, after a moment. "He tends to have a temper."

They were on their way in relatively short order. Kikyo had discovered her cheeks heating again, this time from the easy way Miyatsu had put his hands around her waist and lifted her into the saddle, then steadying her as she swung her good leg over the mare's withers. His hand had slid from her thigh with an unmistakable caress, which had, despite evidence for his nature, taken her by surprise. Discomfited and her hands busy with gathering the reins, she had tried not to react, but knew her blush was all too evident.

They rode at a walk, in the direction indicated by the guide. The monk rode to her left, his posture in the saddle easier than hers, his shakujou strapped to the saddle with a makeshift harness. To her relief, Miyatsu did not try to carry on a conversation. They ambled down the path in silence. Kikyo wished that they could be moving faster, but she could feel the mare's slight limp. And her own leg was already throbbing, despite the care he had taken with adjusting the length of her stirrup.

They were crossing a meadow at midmorning when Miyatsu spoke in a quiet monotone. "We're being watched. Bird-youkai."

Kikyo resisted the urge to look up. "There was a lesser youkai watching the village several days before she kidnapped him," she replied, keeping her voice just as quiet. "Anything we can do?"

He was silent for several moments. "Pretend to faint."

She blinked, trying to guess what he was up to, then decided to play along. She let herself sway, then called out, bringing one hand to her head, "Houshi-sama—" She leaned forward, over the saddle.

"Miko-sama!" He was at her side, an arm around her shoulder, his leg bumping against hers. She left herself go limp, leaning against him, but kept one hand on the cantle, ready to hang on for dear life if either of the horses spooked. She felt the horses move sideways off the path. Keeping her eyes open just a slit, she saw when they moved into shade. She heard water as the horses came to a stop. The arm supporting her shifted, folding her forward over the mare's withers. There was a whisper of power, and the mare went stock still. Kikyo waited, starting to feel a bit irritated with the length of the play-acting. Hands drew her gently down, and then she was lying on the grass, her straw hat removed.

"Can I wake up yet?" she whispered, trying not to move her lips.

"A moment." He chanted something, and she felt his power stir again. His fingers touched her forehead, and her headache faded, just a little. "Miko-sama?" he asked aloud. "Miko-sama, are you all right?"

She made herself sigh, then let her eyelids flutter open. "Houshi-sama?" she said. "What--happened?"

"I fear you fainted," he said. "I told you I didn't think you were strong enough to ride yet. Now lie still, and rest."

"I can't," she whined. "I told you. I have to find him. She'll kill him." She tried to get up; as expected, he pushed her down.

"You can't help him when you can't even sit a horse, miko-sama. Now get some rest." He muttered a quick chant, which she recognized as a sleeping charm. She felt the shift in the energy, but it had absolutely no effect on her. Nevertheless, she pretended it did, yawning, starting to protest, then letting her eyes slide shut. Then she waited. And waited. She started to count, slowly. She was up to 80 when he sighed. "It's moving off. You can talk now."

"You can talk--explain what you were trying to do." She tried to keep the irritation she felt out of her voice.

"Two things," he said, shifting position. "First, I wanted to get some idea how much of a link that dark priestess has with that youkai. If she could only command it, it would probably have stayed above us just a short while, then gone back to her. But if she can link with it, she'd probably keep it around to observe us."

"Which it did," she stated.

"Yes--it actually came down pretty low--lower than I would have expected, if she suspected we'd noticed the youkai. The other thing ... misdirection."

Kikyo opened her eyes and looked at him. "About you?" she guessed. "You'd make a lousy healer monk, judging by the effects of those two spells."

He gave her a wry smile. "My uncle would have torn his hair out, trying to teach me, if he'd had any to pull. No, my strengths are in the offensive spells and purification sutras. Which is where your strength is as well, I'd guess?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I know a lot about healing, but not with spells," she said. "My arrows..."

"Someday, you're going to have to tell me why one of your arrows is already charged," he observed. "Finally, if she thinks you're in worse shape than you are, that may also help. Since I think we have to assume that there's no way we can sneak up on her, we have to use other means to surprise her."

Kikyo nodded, a sudden surge of grief knotting her throat. If that was Tsubaki's servant, there would be no way to surprise her, no way to sneak in and release Inuyasha, no way to confront her except when _she_ chose. No way to stop whatever she was doing, that had the fire-rat robes burning with his despair. Inuyasha had needed her, and she hadn't been there to protect him. She had failed him. Again.

She tried to stop her tears. A hand touched hers. "It's all right to cry, Kikyo-sama," he said gently. "Here." He eased his arms under her legs and back, and gently lifted her to his lap, settling her head on his shoulder. "You love him and you're afraid for him, aren't you?" he continued. "You're a powerful miko, and such a powerful person is never supposed to show weakness, are they?" His voice was wry, as from one who knew as well as she did the expectations of others around them. "Well, you're a priestess who loves and is afraid, and I'm a monk who would rather feast and chase women, than meditate and pray; so if we reveal our weakness to each other, then no harm done, is there? To know that there's someone who doesn't expect--perfection."

Kikyo turned her face into his robe, and the hot tears came.

* * *

Tsubaki eased the link with the bird-youkai, smiling thoughtfully. So, Kikyo had recruited a monk to help her out. One whose strengths emphasized healing rather than fighting, from that scene the youkai had observed. She'd figured out Kikyo's trick the next day, when, vaguely dissatisfied, she had personally visited the site of Kikyo's 'death'. Kikyo had been clever, she had grudgingly admitted. Just not clever enough. Tsubaki had sent out scouts, and quickly located the miko. It had been a bit dismaying when the youkai had reported _two_ strong sources of spiritual power. But she could think of ways to fight two opponents at once. And if the monk was only a healer, all to the good. And Kikyo was injured, which meant her powers would be even lower. 

The hanyo cried out again, his voice babbling, almost incoherent in its pleas. Tsubaki frowned. She'd left the puppet and the broken hanyo alone since last night, after removing the spell that had made that final rape so terrible for the hanyo. She'd known then, that, left to her own erratic impulses, the puppet was apt to rape the hanyo at least once in the night, and the spell was physically too dangerous for a thing that had little concept of consequences. But the puppet had been constructed to 'pet' him, to be 'nice' to him, as often as she hurt him. And, while Tsubaki hadn't been paying close attention that morning, she could not remember any times of relative silence.

Sighing, she stood up, and walked to the other room. "Kikyo, stop," she ordered, as she stood in the entrance. "Get dressed, and stand in the corner."

The puppet made a low sound, almost like a growl, but obeyed. Tsubaki raised an eyebrow, studying the puppet. That little sign of rebellion should not have been possible. She would need to check on it, but it was also possible that the puppet was no longer needed, and could be destroyed. She turned her attention to the hanyo.

And frowned.

She had enjoyed breaking the half-breed. She had laughed at the hanyo's humiliation, and yesterday had reveled in his screams. Little had been more satisfactory, than having the once-proud hanyo groveling, begging for mercy, flinching from even a gentle pat. And she still anticipated the moment when she would tear the remaining youki from his body and kill him in front of the villagers he had saved. But this--

--Was waste. Was the useless pummeling of a broken toy, to no gain. The hanyo had lapsed into unconsciousness, both ears in tatters, his back bleeding from scores of slashes. He had curled in on himself in an obvious effort to protect his stomach and his privates, but his effort had been less than successful, she found as she reluctantly sat on her heels beside him and gingerly moved his hands aside. His skin was cold, his color was bad; his breathing shallow. Focusing on his aura, Tsubaki saw that it was not much stronger that it had been that first day.

And it was her fault, she knew, as she reached for a discarded cover and pulled it over his body. Standing up, she went over to the clearly-sulking puppet. One index finger touching its forehead, and a mental twist, and she was in full contact with the puppet's awareness. Immediately, she saw what happened. The link last night, allowing her to control the puppet and feel everything that happened in her own body, had been too close, and had worked both ways. The puppet had felt what she had felt, and remembered. The primitive life animating it wanted to replicate those feelings. She had given the puppet no specific orders before going to sleep, and so it had felt free to act on that desire. But it was so limited in its understanding, that it had only grasped one way to get its desires, and had not at all understood the limitations of torture or the endurance of a hanyo's body.

Tsubaki grimaced to herself, annoyed and irritated. Dropping her hand, she met the sullen eyes. "You will let the hanyo sleep. You will not touch him while he sleeps. When he awakens, you will offer him water to drink, and you will call me. If he tries to escape, you will restrain him, but not harm him, and you will call me."

"Yes, mistress," the puppet muttered, a hint of rebellion in the dark eyes. Tsubaki touched the link again, then let it go with an mental sigh. The puppet would continue to obey her--for now. But the desire the puppet had discovered would grow, and with it, its rebellion. In some circumstances, a puppet filled with dark, selfish desires might be useful, especially given that the original was still alive. But, no. The situation was complicated enough, with the addition of the monk, and her intent to carry out her plans not here, in her own home, but in the village. Unless she could think of a good use for the puppet before she left, it would be best to destroy it.

Leaving the room, Tsubaki allowed herself to sigh, then turned her thoughts into another direction. Unless stopped, Kikyo and that monk were little more than a day's slow ride away. Unless she chose to confront them here, she must be ready to move by morning.

She had work to do.


	22. Chapter 22: Revelations

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XXII: Revelations**

The fire crackled softly. Kikyo gingerly leaned her head back against the boulder, waiting for the water to boil, the shallow bowl she used for medicines in her lap. Her leg throbbed abominably, and her head was not that far behind. She was going to need strong medicine tonight to get some sleep. She hated the thought of it, as it would leave her groggy and unable to control her powers if an emergency came up. But Miyatsu had insisted that she take the potion, more concerned about her ability to keep traveling, if she failed to get sleep.

Rubbing one temple, she looked across the fire. Miyatsu was sitting in the lotus position, meditating, his staff lying crosswise across his thighs. She studied his face. So far, he'd been an excellent traveling companion. He'd said little on the ride; but then, neither had she. He was considerate and attentive of her injured position, but did not hover. Once he had found their campsite, he had carried her to this location and made sure she was comfortable, then promptly made sure she had tasks to keep her occupied, from selecting the food and preparing it for their meal, to cleaning the horses' harness, to setting her ward spells into four hand-length twigs, which he then set about the camp. It was a clever way to set her wards without having to actually walk the perimeter, and she'd been a bit surprised that it had worked. Once he had insisted that she prepare a pain and sleeping potion for herself, she had wondered aloud how he was going to know if anything touched the wards, since she had set them up, not himself. He had smiled and shown her a fifth bit of twig, which had come from the same branch as the other four. A very tiny bit of power from both of them, and any touch on the wards would resonate in the fifth twig, picked up by his power and alerting him. His temple, he had explained, when she asked, included techniques for monks working together, even to the point of merging their powers into a greater whole.

Her thoughts drifted to Inuyasha, and the one trip they had made together, to fight the youkai that had been raiding another village. Inuyasha, she remembered, had not precisely traveled _with _her, as much as he had traveled near her. He'd be in a tree above her one moment, bounding off ahead the next, coming back to follow several dozen steps behind her, then before she knew it, leaping off into another direction. He'd never quite gone out of sensing range, and he'd always come back, as if she were at the center of circle limiting his movements. The nights she'd had to camp, he had come bounding in to drop a rough-butchered animal by her fire, only to disappear before she could thank him, let alone offer to share dinner. The night she had stayed in a village, he had disappeared as soon as it was clear she was entering the village, and had not reappeared until she had left it. The only time he had stayed close to her for any length of time had been the last day coming back, when it had begun to snow so heavily that she feared losing her way. He had dropped down beside her, practically forced her into his fire-rat kimono, then had walked ahead of her to break trail, wearing only the one thin layer of his inner kimono as protection for his upper body. The fire-rat kimono had been astonishingly warm, but by the time they arrived at her hut, he was soaked and covered the snow. He had tried to shrug off her concern and leave, but she had acted without thinking, grabbing his wrist and dragging him inside. She had told him in no uncertain terms that he was staying the night, and to her surprise, he hadn't argued.

Of course, he'd almost bolted after he'd unthinkingly dropped to all fours and shaken the snow and water off him, exactly as a dog would have done. Kikyo smiled to herself, remembering how red his face had gotten, when he had looked up at her and Kaede's yelps, and seen the splatters of snow on them and around them. Kaede's laughter, after the first shock, had made it even worse. _Poor Inuyasha_, she thought. That night, more than anything, had revealed to her how alone his life must have been; his embarrassment had clearly shown that he knew his behavior was inappropriate in human society. Especially after the way he had bolted down the first bowl of stew. He had learned human behavior, but had been alone so long that he had forgotten the habit. And cared enough to be ashamed at his mistakes.

"You are smiling, miko-sama," came Miyatsu's voice across the fire. "May one share in the reason for that lovely smile?"

She looked away. "I was just—remembering something about—my friend," she said, looking away.

There was a long moment of silence. "Kikyo-sama."

Kikyo looked up, startled by the use of her name and the sudden reserve in his tone. Miyatsu looked at her over the fire, his face unreadable. "I think you should tell me about your lover."

She paled. "I—" She looked away. "I just—I'd rather not—"

"Kikyo."

She tensed, snapping her head back to stare at him, slightly angered that he had addressed her by her bare name. His eyes were black in the low light, and somehow they caught her gaze and held them. "Miko-sama," he said, "I have given you my word to help you free your lover. If we succeed, then I will meet him, and I will learn what it is about him you fear to reveal. Therefore, there is no reason to refuse to tell me now. And I would prefer to know that there is a level of trust, and honesty, between two people who are going to be battle comrades."

She blinked against the stinging in her eyes, and tried to find the core of the cool, remote miko she had trained to be. She failed. "I—he's not—my lover." _Not yet._ "We haven't—everything's that's happened—"

"But you do love him. And there is some reason to be ashamed of this love?"

"No!" she burst out. "There's nothing wrong with him!"

"Then tell me his name." His statement had the force of an order. She trembled.

"His name—" she swallowed. "His name—is Inuyasha. He's—he's a hanyo."

* * *

Hanyo.

Miyatsu stared at the woman across the fire, appalled. This beautiful, strong-willed, and powerful priestess, was in love with a half-breed youkai? The hideous offspring of the most shameful act a human could perform with a youkai? "You love—a hanyo," he stated, trying and failing to keep the revulsion out of his voice.

He saw her lift her chin. Tears streaked down her face, but having admitted her fault, she met his gaze. "I love Inuyasha," she stated.

"Miko-sama," he said slowly. "I have no doubt you care for this creature. But how can you love something so—so—inhuman?"

"He's not inhuman!" she snapped. "He's more human than some humans I could name!"

Her vehemence surprised him. "Miko-sama," he tried again, "I'm sure he's been very—careful—around you. But how do you know you can trust him? How do you know, that he hasn't simply been trying to gain your affections, for his own base reasons?"

She glared at him. "Inuyasha almost died, to save eight people in the village, most of whom he didn't even know. He put his life in my hands when I'd already attacked him, thinking he'd betrayed me. He was willing to give up his youkai blood, willing to become human, for my sake, to help purify and destroy the Shikon No Tama. Are those reasons enough to trust him? Or is everything he does, everything he tries, count for nothing, because of what he was born? Of what he can't help being?"

Miyatsu opened his mouth, and then closed it as no argument came to him. He studied the young woman, mind trying to grapple with what she had said. A hanyo, morally capable of sacrifice? That wasn't possible, was it? Everyone knew what hanyos were—the filthy, degraded offspring of two beings who had blackened their own souls by their unforgivable behavior. Hanyos were the weak, contemptible combination of the worst of both their parents. The best fate that could befall a hanyo was a merciful death at their birth, before they had a chance to spread their corruption.

She stared at him, angry and defiant. She had ridden out on her own to save a hanyo from a dark priestess. She had insisted on continuing the search, even after injuries that should have kept her off a horse for at least a moon. Her spiritual power was perhaps the equal of his. She had been entrusted with an object to which legend had attached awesome powers.

And she loved a hanyo.

A half-breed.

He closed his eyes, finally, lowering his head. "Miko-sama," he said softly. "Forgive me. What you say seems impossible. Yet I know you are not lying. To think that a hanyo could do what you describe—I find it difficult to accept."

"I won't—hold you to your word, houshi-sama. If you can't accept helping to rescue a hanyo from a human priestess, then I'll do it on my own."

Miyatsu looked up sharply. "Miko-sama, I do not go back on my word!"

She gave a slight nod. "But you didn't know what you were offering. I should have had the courage to tell you the truth before you offered to help me."

He gave her a twisted smile. "Miko-sama, if I give my word to a beautiful woman who hides a secret, it is entirely my fault if I do not like what that secret turns out to be."

"But—"

He held up a hand. "Miko-sama, I will not go back on my word." He sighed then, shoulders sagging a little. "Your words challenge what I thought I knew. I must acknowledge that what I think I know, may be wrong. I will meditate on this. Please forgive me, for not being able to immediately accept what you have said."

She nodded, losing some of her tense, angry look. "I forgive you, Miyatsu-sama."

* * *

Tsubaki leaned back from her worktable. So. Kikyo was as stubborn as she had always been, not stopping until sunset, despite barely being able to stay in her saddle without assistance from that monk. If they started early, and kept the same pace, they would be at the hidden path to her hut by late afternoon. With their powers, they would have no problem discovering the path and finding her place.

It would not be that hard to kill them while they slept, or destroy them as they attacked. But that would not be satisfactory. There would be no witnesses to her victory, no one who could pass on the word to powerful. There would be rumors, of course, but who would know for sure?

Kuroshin, of course, would council her to take the surest course.

She sighed, wishing that he were still around. He would have prevented that mindless puppet from nearly killing the hanyo. He would have objected to the risk of linking herself so deeply with the puppet, but still. She could so use a discussion with the shikigami on the most appropriate way to destroy the monk and Kikyo. She could almost hear his quiet, passionless voice raising objections, dissecting the dangers and opportunities, offering alternatives which hadn't even occurred to her—

_Mistress. The hanyo is awake._

The sullen thought brought Tsubaki back from her reverie. "Thank-you, Kikyo," she said, getting to her feet. She would check on the hanyo, it being better to trust her own eyes at this point, than to trust the puppet.

She found the puppet kneeling next to the hanyo, a petulant expression on her face, and a bamboo drink container in her hand. "He does not want to drink, Mistress," said the puppet, looking up, a flicker of avarice in the dark eyes. "I should punish him."

"No." That slipped out before Tsubaki even really took a look at the hanyo. What she saw took her by surprise. His body was wracked with spasms. Sometime during the afternoon, he had kicked off or otherwise pushed away the cover, and she could clearly see the muscle twitches flowing over his limbs, his torso, and even his head. His ears were in manic motion, fresh blood oozing out of the caked slashes.

It must be an effect of the poison, she thought, as she invoked the paralysis spell in his collar. His body, below the neck, went limp, but his ears kept up their rapid dance. The hanyo whimpered, tears gathering in his barely-open eyes. "P-p-ple-as-s-s-e," he whimpered, the spasms affecting his speech with all the rest, "s-s-st-stop. H-h-hurts-s-s."

Considering expanding the paralysis spell to include his entire body, Tsubaki dismissed the notion with a headshake. Plucking the tube from the puppet's hand, she knelt by the helpless hanyo. With her free hand, she touched his forehead, determining that he was, as she had expected, running a fever. Pulling him onto his back, she braced his head up with her free hand, and then wedged the end of the short, slender drinking spout into his mouth, past his dried, chapped lips. "You will not like the alternative if you do not drink," she told him, angling the container so that water flowed slowly.

He tried. It was a long, messy process. The spasms jerked his mouth from the spout, spilling the water. He had trouble swallowing, and more than once the water trickled down the wrong pipe, igniting a spell of racking coughs. When half the container was emptied, Tsubaki decided it would have to suffice for now. Letting his head down, Tsubaki rocked onto her toes, shifting position to pick up the discarded cover and pull it back up over the limp body. Standing up, she looked at her hand, and grimaced for the streaks of dried blood on her palm.

"Mistress." She looked over at the puppet. "I want him."

"No." Tsubaki backed up her negative with a touch of power, and saw the puppet flinch. "The hanyo needs rest. He needs to be able to travel before Kikyo and that monk get—"

She stopped abruptly as she realized what she had just said in the hanyo's hearing. "Just let the hanyo be,  
she continued firmly. "His youkai blood needs time to clear out the poison in his body, and I can't let you play with him until it does. You may return to the corner, and wait."

Tsubaki left the room as the puppet obeyed, not quite daring to look behind her. The hanyo had been barely conscious. Even if he had heard her words, he might think it just a fever dream. She didn't want him to figure out that she had been mistaken, when she had told him Kikyo was dead.

She didn't want him to find hope.


	23. Chapter 23: Departure

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XXIII: Departure**

Her scent was everywhere, like sitting in a cherry tree during blossom season. She smiled up at him, and he bent down to kiss her, folding her into his arms. She returned his embrace.

And her hands turned into knives, tearing him apart.

Inuyasha screamed, and woke up. His eyes flashed open, and saw Kikyo's face hovering above him. Fear clenched his heart, and whimpering, he tried to scramble away. But his body wouldn't move. He whimpered again, staring up at her face. She smiled at him. Her teeth looked perfectly normal, perfectly human. She looked like Kikyo. But she wasn't Kikyo. His dried blood still marred her face, and her eyes looked at him with hunger.

"Mistress told me I mustn't touch you while you sleep," she whispered, a hand with fingernails that appeared perfectly normal hovering above the cloth tucked under his neck. "But you are awake. Do you want a drink? Mistress said I must offer you a drink."

"Yes," he whispered. Thirsty or not, the positive answer was a far better option to whatever her alternative was. Her expression turned sulky. She brought the bamboo tube up and forced the spout into his mouth. Water flooded his mouth, and he was forced to swallow or gag.

She pulled away the container after only a few swallows, spilling water on his face. Moving it out of his range of vision, she leaned back over him, the hunger back. "I want you," she whispered, hand gripping the cover. She pulled it down to his chest. "I want to make you scream," she continued, stroking a fingertip from the side of his neck out over his left shoulder, caressing the half-healed bytes. "I want you."

Terror smothered him, as he felt her pull the cover off his body. He couldn't take a repetition of the last two days. He couldn't! The terror clogged his throat, and he couldn't even whimper as he felt her straddle him, as she lowered her head and nuzzled his neck, then moved down and slowly bit him, driving needle-pointed teeth through his skin. He felt the venom from her bite burning, and wanted to scream, wanted to escape, knowing what would happen next—

And then she released him, standing up. His body twitched as the paralysis spell lifted, and then he was scrambling away from her on all fours, until he hit a corner post and went down, agony starting to throb through his groin. Whimpering, he went to his hands and knees, the multitude of cuts, burns and bruises, starting to ache and throb in a cascading sympathy. He could smell his stench—the stench of his fear, his blood, the poison, his urine and his seed. He wanted to stand on his feet, howling defiance. He wanted to slash with his claws, bring the house down on their heads and his, ending it. But he couldn't. He could only tremble and whimper, shivering in fear that he couldn't hide, while humiliation ate his soul. He was no better than what they had called him all his life, to be so weak that he could let his body be used by that priestess and her puppet.

"Well, you're looking better than last night, puppy, but you're still a mess."

The dark priestess. Inuyasha cringed, his eyes shutting, not wanting to get even a glimpse of the source of his torment. He heard her walking towards him and shrank in on himself. He heard the rustle of her robes as she knelt beside him. "Let me see your hand, puppy."

Whimpering, he obeyed, shivering. He felt her take his hand and manipulate it, pulling the fingers back, making him flinch as the unhealed fingertips protested the motions. "Interesting," she said. "You're not healing nearly as quickly as you were. Is it the power I've pulled from you, or the poison? Or both."

He didn't know. He didn't care. Releasing his hand, she grabbed his chin and forced his head around. "Look at me, puppy."

Inuyasha looked at the dark priestess, ears lowered as far as they would go, sweat trickling down his face. She smiled at him. "Not very much like the puppy who tried to defy me a few days ago, are you? I wonder what your 'little sister' Kaede will think of you, when she sees you?"

Kaede?! Inuyasha recoiled, jerking his jaw out of her grip. "How do you know about that?!" he gasped. "What have you done to her?"

She smirked. "Oh, only asked her a few questions the night I rescued you. I may have also put a few false memories in her head, about how a youkai tossed her aside, then slaughtered and ate you. Of course, Kikyo saw through that before she left to find you, but I suppose it must have given the child a bad time for a little while."

"You—you witch!" For the first time in days, he felt a spark of rage. How could she do that to Kaede!

"Oh, getting a bit defiant again, are we?" She reached over and grabbed and twisted his further ear. Inuyasha yelped, then whimpered, shifting his position in an effort to relieve the pain. She let go, and he went back down to all fours. "I will do what I want with those miserable villagers," she told him, standing up. "And you will watch me."

Gods, no! Kaede, Korana, Yasuo—what would she do to them? The flicker of rage had vanished. "Pl-please," he whispered, his terror vaulting to new dimensions, yet horror impelling his pleas. "D-do what you want with me, b-b-but l-leave them alone!"

She laughed. "A hanyo foolish enough to defend mere villagers, who probably would have been more than happy to chase you down and kill you, if not for Kikyo? What makes you think I would ever listen to a fool?" Her sandal came down on his outstretched hand. Inuyasha cried out as she ground her heel into his fingers, splitting open the scabs. She lifted her foot, and he pulled his hand away from the floor, tucking it into his chest. "Kikyo, since the puppy has forgotten himself enough to talk back to me, you may entertain yourself by breaking his fingers. When you are finished, clean up this room, feed him, then clean him up. Other than that, you are to leave him unharmed."

"Want him," came the puppet's sullen reply.

"Yes, I know, dear. You'll have him again, but later. Now obey me."

"Yes mistress."

He heard Tsubaki head towards the door. "Oh, yes. One more thing." He heard a snap, and he nearly fell over sideways as he felt the spell descending on him again. "You're a dog."

* * *

Miyatsu's horse lagged behind the other as the trail narrowed. Brooding, the monk watched the miko's long, black hair shifting slightly as she rode. After a long meditation the night before, and after a morning's ride buried deep in thought, he still had trouble accepting the very idea of a miko falling in love with a hanyo. He could not help but feel a deep sense of revulsion. Didn't she understand that she was tainting her own soul, by associating with a misbred hanyo?

At least, that was what he had always understood. Humans and youkai weren't intended to get along together. A human associating with a youkai risked their life, at best, and at worst, their very soul. Youkai understood nothing of morality, honor, sacrifice--so it must be for any with demon blood. And yet...

Surely his family, his sensei, his temple--they couldn't have taught him wrongly. Could they?

He wanted to like her. He wanted to help her rescue her beloved. He wanted to help her smile, even if it was at a rival. He wanted to flirt with her, tease her, make her blush, perhaps even laugh. But since learning that she was in love not with a human, but with a human-youkai crossbreed, he could not make himself do any of those things that usually came as naturally as breathing. Was he really afraid that he would somehow be tainted if he helped her? If he touched her? Surely not--surely her own sin, in loving a hanyo--if it was indeed a sin--did not mean that helping her made his actions a sin as well. But, to help, even indirectly, someone who was the embodiment of shame--a hanyo...

He sighed, reaching up to rub his temple beneath the broad straw hat.

"Houshi-sama?" He grimaced a bit as he realized she'd heard his sigh. She didn't look around, her back straight as she rode. "Is something wrong?"

"Only in my heart, miko-sama," he replied. "As I said, I gave my word to help you rescue this--Inuyasha. I won't go back on it, and yet--part of me insists that helping you rescue this hanyo is--going down a path that is wrong, that could imperil your soul."

"Even if I didn't love him," she said, "I would think that knowing someone is being tortured by a dark priestess, and refusing to do anything, simply because of what he was born, would be a far greater danger to one's soul. Or are only saints worthy of rescue?"

He winced at that last. "No, miko-sama," he said, "The state of another's soul should not be a reason for deciding to rescue someone: what matters is that they need rescue." He sighed again. "I am sorry I find the idea of helping a hanyo so--uncomfortable."

She was silent for a bit. "Perhaps it would help, to think of helping Inuyasha, not of helping a 'hanyo.'"

"I..."

"Try thinking of Inuyasha as a brash, hot-tempered young man who wants everyone to think that he's the toughest, meanest creature around, yet who can be talked down from a tree by a little girl. Think of him as an orphan who has been completely on his own since he was a child. An orphan run out of every village he ever dared approach openly, just because of his looks. An orphan attacked by youkai just because of the way his blood smells. And ask yourself if you'd been that orphan, if you could ever have brought yourself to trust anyone. Or love anyone."

Her description hit hard. Miyatsu dropped his gaze to his horse's neck, unsettled. He'd traveled a few years before through a section of country decimated by fighting between two warlords. Villages had been burned out, men and old women killed, younger women and older girls vanished, when they hadn't been raped and murdered. A few children in two villages had survived, but they'd reacted to his efforts to help them with fear and distrust. And there had been so little he could do for them--a bit of food, a bit of work to repair a hut to make it even partly livable, a promise to try and talk a surviving village into taking them in. He had succeeded in one instance, but in the other...

Those faces, starving not just for food but for everything a child needed to survive, had haunted his dreams for months. And this--Inuyasha--had been an orphan? Rejected not just by one village, or two, but all?"

"How did he survive?" he asked softly, remembering faces of dead children he'd found, dead of starvation. Dead of illness. Dead because no one had been left to care for them.

"He doesn't talk about it," she said, surprising him a little that he'd been heard. "His youkai blood helped physically, I'm certain. But his heart is human." She was silent for a moment, then sighed. "That's why he wanted the Shikon No Tama. He thought, by using it to become a full youkai, he could make a place for himself in the youkai world. He came after it again and again. But there was never the mindless desire for power that I felt in the youkai who attacked. Or the hate for humans. There was--I could feel it--his human soul made him different. He was never really trying to kill me; just steal the jewel. And I--I couldn't make myself shoot to kill him. Instead, I talked to him."

"Talked to him?" Talk to a youkai, even one not full-blooded?

"Talked to him," she agreed, and then sighed. "He was lonely, even if he'd never admit it. And I--I was lonely. Pledged to purify the Shikon No Tama. Striving to keep myself perfect. Having to always be on the alert against attack. I felt--I couldn't let myself be human. We were--alike--in a way. So I--invited him to come down from the tree, and talk to me."

"And then--?"

"We talked. We became--friends. And then...we fell in love."

"And became lovers?" he asked, with an edge of distaste.

She shook her head. "No. We--didn't get that chance. I realized there was a way to purify the Shikon No Tama, and probably destroy it..."

The miko fell silent. Miyatsu waited, his curiosity heightened, then finally prodded. "How?"

"I asked Inuyasha to wish to become human. And--he agreed."

* * *

Inuyasha sprawled on his side, pretending to sleep, wishing that pretending could make it true. Not that it was likely. His skin stung and burned: the puppet's definition of 'cleaning' him meant scrubbing him hard with the harsh lye soap and a very stiff brush. His upper hind leg was drawn backward as far as it would go, as he could not bear the thought of any sort of pressure of his agonized and throbbing privates. The 'tail' had at least some usefulness; curled over his thigh, the long hairs drifted down and provided a tiny bit of modesty. His hands throbbed nearly as badly as his privates; the puppet had driven her claws into his hands repeatedly while breaking the bones, knowing that the poison made it impossible for his youkai blood to subdue the pain. His stomach was queasy; the meal had been a single fish, uncooked, unbutted and unscaled, and rotting. He had tried to refuse, but the pulling of one of his fangs had destroyed his resistance. Eating fresh raw fish that he could at least gut, scale and debone with his claws was barely on a of tolerable-if-nothing-better meals. Eating one that smelled and tasted of rot was only preferable to the torture that the puppet was so happy to inflict on him.

He heard and smelled the priestess come in, one of his ears twitching in her direction. He tensed, causing his body to protest even more. Clenching his jaws together to keep from whimpering (though that hurt as well), he waited, dreading that at any moment she would let the puppet start torturing him, or, just as bad, she would start absorbing more of his youki. It didn't hurt, precisely, but it made him feel awful. It made him dizzy and nauseous. Worse was the feeling that something deep inside him was cracked. That every time she pulled on his youki, the crack widened. And that there was something behind that crack. Something terrible.

He felt the whirl of borrowed youki and her personal power, and trembled, fighting a whimper of terror, waiting for the torture. He felt the spell take shape, and drift closer. Shaking, he scrambled to all fours, trying to back away. Like a mist, it seemed to envelop him, and his terror broke loose in a wail of fear.

Which began soft, and faded to nothingness, even as his throat continued to vibrate. Startled, he opened his eyes, and found the daylight that had been seeping through his eyelids was darkening to absolute blackness. The delicate scents of puppet and witch faded, and then his own stench. For a moment, he thought he must have reverted to full human, but then he felt his ears twitching madly, and realized that he was surely still hanyo. But she had blinded him, deafened him, and taken his sense of smell.

Arms and legs collapsed, and he crumpled onto his belly, igniting a flare of pain. He yelped, in pain, and in fear, shaking in growing terror for what she must be planning, that she was robbing him of all his senses.

Something grabbed one of his hands, and pulled his fingers roughly straight before curling them into a fist. He yelled and tried to pull away, but the hands belonged to the puppet, who only squeezed his hand until he screamed. Shaking and moaning, he felt a rope being wound round and round his clenched hand, obviously intended to keep him from opening his hands, even if the bones suddenly healed. His hand becoming one single, big throb of pain, he could barely manage a whimper when he felt her start working on his other hand.

A few thoughts began to ooze through the agony as he felt his arms being bound behind his back. The dark priestess hadn't used bindings since she'd broken him. Something was changing, but what? Mind dulled by pain, Inuyasha felt his legs being bound. He lost track of his thoughts as the puppet rammed a gag into his mouth, choking him. His body mindlessly fought, and it did loosen enough to let him breathe again. But he didn't realize what was happening, until he felt an ice-cold, scaled body curl around him, radiating the dull, dark youki of a snake-bodied youkai. He felt it wind tightly around him, felt its generalized, mindless hate, and a more specific fear. And knew.

The dark priestess was preparing to return to the village. She was using flying youkai to travel. The ones she had under control might well fear him, and so he was bound—even though he was already paralyzed—to reassure the primitive-minded youkai. And if she was going to fly to the village, then that meant she was getting ready to destroy him.

Which he wouldn't really mind. Dying was preferable to more of the torture she'd put him through. If the kami were at least kinder to a dead hanyo than to a living, they would let his soul search for Kikyo. For himself, that was all he would ask, to be with his beloved. With Kikyo.

But going to the village also meant the witch-bitch was getting ready to hurt, even kill, the villagers. To kill the people who had at least let Kikyo care for him. Some whom had liked him. One who had thanked him. One who had called him 'older brother.' And a little girl who had petted his ears, who had shown him that humans weren't always afraid of him, didn't always hate him—

His eyes burned.

Koranna was in danger. They were all in danger.

And there was nothing he could do.


	24. Chapter 24: Crossing Paths

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XXIV: Crossing Paths**

Kikyo took several sips from the bamboo water container, then looped its leather thong back through the rope holding her bags to the saddle. She glanced at the lowering sun, wondering if they had come close enough that Miyatsu could sense Tsubaki's aura. Her head was aching again, her leg was throbbing, and she would more than happy to let him take the initiative again for camping.

She wondered what he was thinking. She had told him about Onigumo and Naraku, and the end of the Shikon No Tama. He had not said anything since she had finished. Would it be enough, to help him see that Inuyasha was asomeone worth caring about, and not just a half-blooded youkai? She desperately hoped it would. The monk might have given his word about helping her, but in the middle of a battle, to save a mixed-blood from a human woman, however evil, what if he hesitated? Could she really trust him? He had still looked so shaken this morning, so uncomfortable. She hadn't entirely liked his bantering and his easy, physical contact with her before the relevation. But the total disappearance of that side of him worried her.

"Youkai. Coming straight at us."

She grabbed for her bow with his first low, taut word. His range for sensing youki was longer than hers, at least for now, with her healing head. Her hand hesitated a moment, before chosing to pluck an arrow from the quiver at her knee. She had discovered that morning that about half of her arrows had had sutras bound to them during the night. With her own power added, that would make the arrows very powerful. But it was best not to use them until necessary.

She felt the approaching cloud of youki just moments before he muttered, "I feel dark spirit power--it's probably your Tsubaki." She nodded absently, holding the arrow to the string but not pulling back. She heard him move up alongside her, then dismount. Muttering a charm under his breath, he stepped in front of the horses, touching their noses in turn. Feeling the mare under her sag a bit, she knew that Miyatsu had enspelled the horses to keep them from panicking. Freeing her arrow hand, Kikyo pushed back the conical, straw hat to free her range of vision.

Four flying snake-youkai loomed over the trees, surrounded by a powerful barrier. Two of them twined together, while the other pair had their bodies coiled around human-shaped bodies. She could not make out much about the one on the right, other than black hair, but the other body being carried was face down, and two white, triangular ears were clearly visible. "Inuyasha..." she breathed, feeling her heart sinking. She could not see much of him between the coils. But his hip-length fall of hair had been reduced to stubble, he was gagged, and his eyes were barely open.

A laugh trailed down from the paired youkai. "Good evening, Kikyo. Have you been looking for me?"

The pang of seeing Inuyasha helpless whispered away as Kikyo found the center of her cool, youkai-hunting self. "Tsubaki." She moved the center of her gaze to look at the dark priestess sitting on the back of the twined youkai. Letting her power slip into the arrow, she raised her bow and aimed it at the pair, watching the four youkai. The twined pair tossed their heads at the motion of her bow, while the other two twitched. "I suggest that you release Inuyasha, with no further harm, if you wish to live."

Tsubaki laughed. "Oh, my dear Kikyo, your accident did damage your head, didn't it? You don't really think that puny arrow can break through my barrier, do you?"

"She's right, you know," muttered Miyatsu.

"Hush," she breathed back, not looking away from the youkai. "Distract her." She moved the bow a bit again, aiming towards the left youkai. It shifted, drifting closer to the central pair. "Don't worry about me, houshi-sama," she said in a normal tone of voice. "I've defeated this dark priestess before, and I'll do it again." A scornful laugh responded to her words.

"Well, that may be true," said Miyatsu, "but I'd hate to think that it's really necessary to kill a woman as beautiful as she is." Out of the corner of her eye, Kikyo saw the monk moving forward."My dear Tsubaki," he continued, in a warm and genial voice. "I don't suppose you could be persuaded to come lower? I can see from here that you appear quite lovely, but you must come down, if I am to properly appreciate your beauty."

"Houshi-sama," Kikyo growled, not looking away.

"My dear Kikyo," he replied, turning his head to look at her, "you are not unlovely yourself, and of course, I could hardly refuse to help you, when my carelessness had caused your accident. But surely, you cannot expect me to ignore a lovely woman who appears in front of me? Why, if I ignore a beautiful woman, who knows when I will have ignored the one woman who will welcome me into her arms and into her bed? You would have me tempt fate, to end up old and alone, because I ignored beauty?"

There was a delicate snort from above, and the youkai drifted forward and down. "I was warned growing up that some monks were more interested in pleasure than in holiness, but I never really expected to run across such a person," observed Tsubaki, leaning forward from her position atop the two beasts. "Kikyo, do point that arrow elsewhere--you can't hope to penetrate my barrier, but you're making my youkai nervous."

Kikyo hesitated, scowling, then lowered the bow, releasing the tension. "That's better--it's difficult to have a civilized conversation when pointed weapons are aimed in your direction, don't you think, houshi-sama?" Tsubaki smirked, as the youki moved still lower, the barrier contracting as it was brushed by the ends of the tree branches.

"Weapons do distract from the more interesting topics," he allowed, taking a half step forward and to the side, moving the staff as well. "For instance, why did such a lovely woman as yourself need to become a dark priestess? The spiritual power I sense that you possess is amazing by itself--how much more beautiful would you be, if your soul were as pure as your skin. Have you ever considered repenting of your ways? It would be an honor beyond measuring, to guide you back into the path of the light."

The dark priestess smiled and shook her head. "Are you for real, houshi-sama?"

"Why, whatever do you mean?" he asked, sounding surprised. "You think I am insincere?" he asked in a hurt voice. "My dear miko-sama, I assure you, I take the condition of your soul very seriously. It grieves me, yes, it grieves me, to see such a beautiful woman, with such potential for good, to bear such a darkened soul. I beg you to reconsider your path, and learn what a gift you could give to this poor, undeserving monk--"

She laughed, cutting him off. "Oh, you have a sweet tongue, monk, but do not think your honey will attract me. Why should I change my path, when this course promises to give me all that I desire?" She reached for the pocket in her sleeve. "And what I desire at the moment--"

"Now."

Kikyo could put three arrows through Inuyasha's fire-rat robes in less time than it took him to move across the diameter of a large tree, as she had proven on more than one occasion. Dropping the lightly-charged arrow, she pulled a sutra-wrapped arrow from the quiver. Four arrows, one after the other, blazed upwards, coruscating with light, all of them headed for the same point of the barrier. Miyatsu shouted a word and slammed the end of his staff into the ground. The first two arrows slammed into the shield and disintegrated. But as the third one neared the barrier, a narrow beam of blue light shot from the tip of the monk's staff. The barrier pulsed, and the third arrow disappeared in a blaze of light. The beam did not waver, and the fourth arrow slammed into the barely visible sphere.

It shattered. Tsubaki screamed with rage. Kikyo didn't notice as she notched and fired a plain arrow. The youkai Tsubaki was riding disintegrated as her ordinary sacred arrows took them down with one shot each. Tsubaki shouted something, as the third youkai--not the one bearing Inuyasha, swooped down underneath its falling mistress. Kikyo started to draw a plain arrow, then changed her mind and grabbed one of the sutra-bound arrows, a flicker of thought in her mind that she had to aim at Tsubaki, in order to miss the prisoner of the youkai. She pulled the arrow back, shifting her aim for the more difficult target of Tsubaki's head.

Red light, threaded with dark, flashed in Tsubaki's hand. Miyatsu shouted something and flung up his staff with both hands. Kikyo loosed. At the same moment, a red light shot out from Tsubaki's hand, aimed directly at Kikyo. It shattered the arrow that soared to meet it.

Then slammed into something else.

The world exploded.


	25. Chapter 25: Reunion

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XXV: Reunion**

Inuyasha had realized for some time before the explosion that the spells the dark priestess had put on him to nullify his senses of hearing, seeing and smelling did not extend to his ability to sense demonic energy around him. He could smell or feel the snake's youki surrounding him like a rather faint, malodorous fog wrapped around him. He could just barely sense three other faint sources of youki, plus the far stronger source that was both familiar and strange. Tsubaki's, he had realized, her aura glowing mostly with the youki stolen from him.

The wind against his skin, especially his ears, told him that they were moving. He found himself moving his ears, testing the feel of the wind at different angles, if only because they were the only things he could move.

He knew when the youkai came to a halt, and felt fear clench his heart, guessing that they had arrived at the village. He hadn't realized that they were so near, but that made no difference, for he didn't know what he could do. They were in danger, and didn't even have Kikyo to defend them, and he was helpless. They were going to be killed, for no better reason than that they had dared befriend him, and there was nothing he could do! Poisoned, spelled, broken, and so afraid that the thought of even trying to defy the priestess made him want to whimper.

Wrapped up in his fear and dread, Inuyasha didn't notice the barrier going up around the youkai. Nor did he notice his carrier twitch, or sense its growing fear.

But the flash of spiritual power slamming into the barrier startled him, even as the youkai jolted sideways, its own fear spiking. Inuyasha jerked his head backwards, blind eyes snapping open, as he felt the pure, untainted power slam into the barrier again and again. He felt the youki-fed barrier shatter. The youkai's little mind shrieked in pure panic and started to flee. Dark power, mingling youki and tainted spiritual power, pulsed and flared in an attack. Something pure and shining seemed to spread out to meet it—

And then the world seemed to go mad in a storm of energy. The collar pulsed, burning his neck. The youkai holding him radiated pain as well as fear, and vaulted skyward, releasing him, sending him tumbling and falling. Instincts kicked in, and Inuyasha tried desperately to move, to twist his body out of the helpless tumble. More by luck than effort, his right heel hit first, sending agony up his leg. His body still rotating, he slammed onto his bound arms and hands, before rolling over several times, until the ground stopped him. For long moments, there was only the searing pain in his leg and his arms, and his desperate effort to breathe through his nose. Finally, the pain receded enough to let something else crawl into his awareness. He opened his eyes, and realized he could see.

Whatever had caused that 'explosion' had apparently destroyed the active spells on him. He looked around, and saw that he was lying in a sparse forest. He could see a darkening sky, and guessed that the sun must be about down. Lifting his head, he saw nothing but trees and other plants. His nose brought in more information. His ears flattened reactively as he smelled Tsubaki, her smell mingling with snake youkai, and burnt ink and paper. He smelled two horses, a human male, and Kikyo. Or, rather, the puppet, he told himself, a flicker of fear icing his spine as he breathed in that scent. There was also blood—the man's, he thought.

Inuyasha drew as much air into his lungs as he could, then set himself and tried to force his arms apart and break the bindings. Pain seared through his hands and his arms. He tried to ignore it, grinding his teeth into the gag, but the pain mounted, and his breath and his will ran out at the same time. Whimpering, he relaxed, lungs laboring for air, despair washing over him. So weak he couldn't break simple ropes. No way to escape. Not from whoever recovered first, whether it was Tsubaki or the stranger. If Tsubaki recovered first, she would destroy the stranger, and then go back to her plan to kill him and destroy the village. If the stranger destroyed Tsubaki, the village would be safe, but Inuyasha would only be able to hope that the human had enough mercy for hanyos that he would simply kill him. But how many humans were even that merciful? After his mother died, until Kikyo chose to talk to him, there'd been no one. No one. And Kikyo was dead.

* * *

The mare reared as the calming spell over her shattered. Blinded and mentally deafened by the explosion, Kikyo dropped her bow and hung on for dear life. As the horse came down, knowing the mare was going to bolt and that she'd never be able to stay on, she flung herself out of the saddle. She landed off-balance on her good foot, before going down on her rump. She managed to avoid slamming her head into the ground, ending up on her left side, body thrumming with pain. Panting, she waited for the pain to ebb. 

The pain in her left leg subsided, enough to assure her that she hadn't broken anything on that side. Her right leg throbbed, but it was her head that truly stabbed with pain, and not from the physical blow of six days ago. Something had happened, after she and Miyatsu had shattered Tsubaki's barrier. Tsubaki had launched an attack at the same time she had fired, she remembered. She'd seen her arrow swallowed up by the dark priestess' attack, and had had a split moment to realize that Tsubaki's attack would destroy her, before the world had exploded.

What had happened? Squinting against the vicious headache, Kikyo forced herself to sit up. In the fading light, she could see her bow, and several crumpled bodies. With a fierce effort, the miko forced herself to her hands and knees, and then started to crawl towards her bow. Every move seemed to jar her head and her leg, and she found herself alternating between gasping for breath and clenching her teeth. When her hand came down on the bow, she grabbed it and twisted it so that the bowstring was upright. Not pausing to stop, she headed towards the lump that had to be Miyatsu. Arms trembling and sweat dripping off her face, she managed to crawl to his side. He was on his back, the shattered remnants of his staff littering his body and the ground. Blood trickled from his nose, and there were cuts on his hands, his chest and his face, where splinters had cut him. Supporting herself with her bow hand, Kikyo reached for his neck with trembling fingers. To her relief, she found a pulse, weak but steady.

He must have tried something to block or turn back Tsubaki's attack, she realized. Why that had caused the explosion, she didn't know. Miyatsu had probably saved her life, but at what cost to him?

She looked around again. The dark-robed form lying crumpled on top of a feebly twitching snake youkai was undoubtedly Tsubaki. Cold logic said that she should crawl over to the dark priestess and kill her, before she recovered. But kill her with what? Kikyo thought about what she had. No arrows, no knife. Her bowstring? Her hands? She thought of trying to throttle Tsubaki with her bare hands, and nearly threw up. She was used to killing youkai with her bow. But killing a human with her hands?

A faint sound caught her attention. She brought her head up, looking around. A faint blur of white caught her eye, and she remembered. _Inuyasha!_

She started to crawl towards the tiny bit of white, still keeping hold of her bow, ignoring her pain, desperately determined to get to Inuyasha. She had to get to him. No matter what else happened, she had to get to his side.

Skirting the dying youkai, she continued to crawl, going as quickly as the dimming light and her leg allowed. He came into fuller view, and it was all she could do not to weep for him. He was heavily bound, arms pinioned behind him. There was no sign of the terrible wound that had nearly killed him, but he was terribly thin, and even in the growing twilight, she could see how dark bruises and welts covered his body. Even his privates—she snatched her eyes away, horribly embarrassed, concentrating on his face. She could see a dark stain on the gag. What had Tsubaki done to him?

She was fewer than two lengths from him when he opened his eyes. He saw her, and then, to her shock and horror, his eyes widened in fear, he gave a thin, smothered whine, and he began to tremble. "Inuyasha!" she whispered. "It's me, Kikyo! Don't you recognize me?"

His fear didn't abate, and his terror broke her heart. "Inuyasha, it's Kikyo, you remember Kikyo?" she asked him, continuing to crawl. "I won't hurt you—I'll never hurt you." He continued to stare at her with terrified eyes and flattened ears. "Inuyasha, please—I promise, I won't hurt you!"

She gained his side, heart-sick at the way he was shivering. Touching his shoulder as gently as she could, she looked the gag over. "I'm going to try and take off the gag, Inuyasha," she whispered. "It'll be all right—I'll try not to hurt you." Setting down the bow, she leaned over him. The knot on the gag was simple, but so tight that it took her long minutes and a torn fingernail to loosen. Her back and upper thighs were burning from the stress by the time she finished. As gently as she could, she pulled the gag away, having to maneuver it when it caught on his fangs. Sighing, she leaned back. "Give me a moment, and I'll work on your arms."

He didn't respond. Disappointed, and bewildered, Kikyo hesitated, then reached out for his nearer ear. "Remember when Korana wanted to pet your ears?" she whispered, touching a gentle fingertip to the trembling, folded ear. "You wouldn't—"

Inuyasha gave a strangled noise, and with a lunge, sank his fangs into her hand.

* * *

Inuyasha withstood the terror as long as he could. He didn't understand why the puppet was crawling, or why she was pretending to be the real Kikyo. He wanted to move away from her touch, even when she started to remove the gag, but he didn't dare. Trying to escape was a cause for further punishment. Trying to resist was a cause for further punishment. He had to take whatever she gave him. 

But then she mentioned Korana, and touched his ear; it was in a single moment too much. To have the child's name on his torturer's lips, the child that had been so fearless, who had smiled at him, giggled at him, hugged him, the child who was doomed because of his weakness, and she dared—!

It was not thought or decision, only reaction. He flung his head up and bit the hand, and did not realize he was going to, until after her blood filled his mouth. He stared up at her, petrified, waiting for her to tear her hand away from his mouth, waiting for her to hit him, waiting for her to dig her invisible claws into him.

But she did not do that. She gasped, giving a small cry of pain, and stared down at him, her face sweaty, tears starting to film her eyes. Something in him recognized wrongness in her face. The puppet didn't sweat. It didn't cry. It didn't show pain.

His brain registered the taste of blood. Normal blood. Salty, human blood. Not the sour, inky taste of the puppet's 'blood.'

Bewilderment started to shoulder through the terror. He stared up at the woman, sniffing. It smelled like Kikyo. But the puppet smelled like Kikyo. The woman looked like Kikyo. But the puppet looked like Kikyo.

A tear began to roll down her face. "Inuyasha," she whispered, "why can't you recognize me?"

Tears. Sweat. Had he ever smelled either on the puppet? He couldn't remember. But this had to be just some elaborate pretense. Didn't it? Kikyo, Kikyo was—

He released the hand slowly, swallowing the blood in his mouth. "Kikyo's—dead," he whispered, still staring at her.

She met his eyes, her own widening slightly, and he smelled her scent shift slightly. Had the puppet's scent ever shifted? "I tried to make it look like I was dead, when I realized Tsubaki had set a spell to lead me in the wrong direction, trying to find you. Her eyes shifted slightly, examining his face. "It is me, Inuyasha. Kikyo. I'm sorry it took me so long."

She sounded like Kikyo, sad and regretful. But the puppet sounded like Kikyo

He didn't dare hope. Not now. And yet, what if it was she? What if, what if Tsubaki had been mistaken? Or had managed to fool his nose into thinking she smelled truthful?

How could he know the truth? How?

Her eyes started to tear again as he only stared at her. "Inuyasha, why don't you believe it's me?" she asked. "What has she done to you?"

He couldn't tell her. He could only try to think of some way to learn what was really the truth. "Tell-me."

"Tell you what?" she asked, when words failed to come.

Inuyasha tried again. "Something ... she doesn't know..."

"She? Tsubaki?"

He stared at her, unable to answer her. She studied him, then sighed and closed her eyes. He waited, terrified with every moment that she would open her eyes, and she would be the puppet, smiling that insane smile, announcing that she wanted to hurt him.

"Do you remember the time in the boat, after the attack that hurt Kaede?" she said finally, opening her eyes again. "After I tripped, and you caught me? You hugged me, and then you said, 'I will become human. I'm not saying this on a whim. I will become human.' You went on and said, 'So you can become an ordinary human, too.' And then, remember? I—I kissed you."

He saw her cheeks warming with a blush, even as fresh tears gathered in her eyes, as her scent shifted and changed, as only a real human—not a puppet—would. He remembered that evening: that beautiful, wonderful evening, when he had been filled with love, peace, and hope. That moment, with Kikyo in his arms, when he had made his decision, to become human, to give up his youkai powers, because what he would gain would be more than what he lost. That perfect evening: that last, perfect, innocent night. Before Naraku. Before Tsubaki. A sob caught in his throat, and tears blurred his vision.

"K-Kikyo..." New pain stabbed him, and he closed his eyes against the hurt. It _was_ Kikyo, but it was too late, even if they escaped. He was broken, inside and out. He would never be worthy of her, worthy to touch her, worthy to love her. He had been too weak to keep a mere mortal woman from breaking him, and to have Kikyo find him now, helpless, broken, shamed—

She gave a little cry of pain. His eyes flew open. "Kikyo?" He lifted his head a little, looking around. Kikyo's back was arched, her hands out at her side balancing a clearly uncomfortable position. Her expression was twisted in a grimace, and a hand was tightly gripping the hair at the top of her head, pulling her back. Inuyasha let his eyes moved up, and whimpered. Tsubaki smiled at him. Her hair was a tangled mess, the scar surrounding her right eye was visible, her clothes were in disarray, but her smile was a triumphant smirk.

"You fell in love with a fool, little puppy," she told him, shifting position slightly, and placing the glowing, half-obsidian, half-quartz knife against Kikyo's neck, with the quartz edge against her skin. "She recovered before I did; she should have killed me while she had the chance. But she was a fool—more concerned for her lover, than her enemy. And so here we are. So tell me, little puppy. Who should I kill first, tomorrow? You, or Kikyo?"


	26. Chapter 26: Together

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XXVI: Together**

**  
**"Let her go!"

The puppy looked up, his expression anguished. Tsubaki smiled at him, and was tempted to continue to taunt him and Kikyo further. But practicality reined in the temptation. Instead, she silently cursed him.

The hanyo jerked, eyes widening as he suddenly could not breathe. "Inuyasha!" cried Kikyo, trying to move forward, reaching for him. Tsubaki jerked her handful of hair, then let go.

"If you want the puppy to live, put your hands behind your back, and your feet in front of you," she said coolly, returning the knife to her sleeve and removing two cords she had hastily retrieved from her supplies before slipping up behind the pair. "Or do you wish to gamble his life, that you can defeat me before he suffocates?" Kikyo's shoulders tensed and her hands fisted, but then, lowering her head, she obeyed. Going to one knee, Tsubaki quickly bound Kikyo's wrists behind her. Tying the miko's ankles together, the dark priestess stood up and leisurely drifted back to her original position behind Kikyo. She watched the twitching hanyo with amusement, creating a small spell-light, which she sent to hover above his body. His eyes were starting to glaze, even as his spasms became more frantic.

"You've made your point, Tsubaki," snapped Kikyo. "We're your prisoners. Now stop that."

"What? You want him to die a worse death than this?" asked Tsubaki, smirking to herself. Kikyo stiffened, but said nothing. "Well, since you asked." She broke the curse. The hanyo gasped, coughed twice, then panted, tightly closing his eyes and trying to turn his face away. Tsubaki watched him a moment, then gave a mental sigh.

She'd been fortunate that the blast had not destroyed her personal barrier. That had probably saved her life, and had kept the knife from shattering. Unfortunately, it hadn't saved the youkai—or her Kikyo puppet. Tsubaki considered that fact with considerable annoyance. She had fully intended to control the puppet as she raped the hanyo one last time. But the blast had destroyed the intricate set of spells, and she did not have the time or spare power to create another. Losing the power—not to mention the pleasure—of that act infuriated her. It was all that monk's fault! If he hadn't so cleverly hidden the level of his power, making it seem that he was no more than a man slightly gifted with healing magics—

Turning on her heel, Tsubaki stalked back towards the unconscious monk, pulling her spell-light with her. Sending the light to hover over him, she glared at his figure, remembering his attempt to distract her. He was one of _those_, was he? One of those men who wanted to bed every attractive woman they came across, and who thought all they needed to achieve their end was a smile and clever words. She was tempted to kill him, as he lay there helpless. It would, after all, save countless women from his importune pestering. But it wouldn't teach him anything.

She dismissed the thought of trying to keep him prisoner. The monk was at least as dangerous as the hanyo, and she had come too close to disaster too many times to risk trying to keep two powerful priestly types and the hanyo all under control at the same time. Especially since she didn't know the spell that had shattered her own attack. The monk had either not cast it correctly, she thought, or he simply hadn't had time to complete it. She suspected that it was some sort of barrier that reflected attacks. She'd heard rumors that some temples had spells of that sort. If it was, she was fortunate it had misfired. Her attack on Kikyo had been a split-second decision that she had to take the miko down in pure self-defense, even if it meant she didn't get to torment the self-righteous prig. And that much power, perfectly reflected, would have shattered her personal shields and killed her.

The best step, then, was to leave him. Make sure he wouldn't be killed by anything while he was helpless, but make sure that he had no way to interfere with her at the village. If he tracked her down later, well ... She smiled to herself. If he was as susceptible to a beautiful woman as she suspected, another puppet, this time looking like her, might be the perfect lure. And once she broke him...

* * *

The sun was nearly below the horizon, but the half-full moon rode high in the sky, providing light as her eyes adapted to the growing dark. Sadly, she looked at Inuyasha, whose body was growing silver-dappled from the moonlight slipping past the sparse branches as the last of the sunlight faded. "Inuyasha," she whispered, eyes burning. "I'm sorry." 

"You-you shouldn't have come," he said, voice cracking with barely held-in sobs. "Should have—should have just forgotten me. 'm only a hanyo. Should've forgotten me."

Her throat tightened with grief. This was so not the wild, arrogant and lonely hanyo she'd fallen in love with. She had to swallow twice, to get the tightness loosened enough that she could speak. "You're not just a hanyo, Inuyasha. You saved the villagers. You destroyed the Shikon No Tama. You saw through Naraku's deceit, you had the courage to put your life in my hands, when I thought you had betrayed me."

"'s not that," he said, voice ragged. "She's going to—she's going to—to kill the villagers."

Kikyo gasped. "What?"

"She—she said, she's going to, to make me watch, what she does, to the villagers." His voice broke off in a sob. "K-Korana—Kaede—please, d-don't worry about me, just, just stop her. Just stop her."

_Oh, gods._ Kikyo closed her eyes against a cold wave of horror. Tsubaki was vain, ambitious for power, and possessed of a petty spite that sought revenge against those who obtained something she'd wanted. Kikyo had figured that out a long time ago. But she had never imagined that the dark priestess would strike out at an entire village of men, women and children. What possible reason could she have for such a wicked action?

She didn't know.

But she believed Inuyasha.

Clenching her hands, Kikyo opened her eyes, feeling a grim sense of determination. "We have to stop her."

Silence. "How?" came a whisper, finally.

"I don't know yet," she said frankly. "But we have to try."

"C-can't."

Kikyo blinked, startled by that single, despairing word. "Inuyasha?"

He sobbed. "Can't—fight—her. Tried. Tried to fight. Tried. To escape. Can't. It hurts. So much. Can't fight. I can't."

She would have given anything to be able to gather him in her arms, to soothe him and reassure him, as if he were a terrified child. But she couldn't. And he wasn't.

Drawing a breath, she spoke quietly, but firmly. "Beloved. I need you."

He stopped breathing. The silence trembled, then broke with a tiny, fearful whimper. "I—I—"

"I need Inuyasha," she said. "I need the hanyo who could keep fighting, even after he was impaled. I need the hanyo who was willing to sacrifice his life to save the lives of others. I need the hanyo who found the courage to try and trust even just one human being, after years, decades, of being reviled and hated. I need Inuyasha."

"I—" She heard a whimper, and then heard him swallow. "I-I'll fail..."

"We may both fail," she noted. She hesitated, then added, forced to be honest. "With Miyatsu down, we probably will fail. But at least the gods will know we tried. That's all I'm asking, beloved. That you try."

He whimpered again, his breath coming fast and ragged. She waited, letting her miko senses examine his shivering body. His aura reeked of youkai poison, and his pain. His youki stuttered and pulsed, struggling to clear the poison from his body. But it was so weak that it barely kept pace with the new poison seeping inward. Frowning, she shifted her 'gaze,' and realized that the ropes binding him had been soaked in poison, and were so tightly wrapped around him that his skin was abraded. And that didn't count the open wounds crossed by the ropes. She could also sense the broken bones of his hands, and the shattered bones in his right leg.

"I-I-I'll—try," he whispered finally, drawing her attention back. "Kik-yo."

Kikyo felt a wave of relief go through her, to hear that tiny spark of courage struggling to emerge in the broken hanyo's voice. "Thank-you." She closed her eyes to consider her options, but could only think of one thing to do. She had to help Inuyasha a chance to recover some of his strength. Craning her neck to see just how close she was sitting to him, she leaned backwards, extending her wrists. "Inuyasha, I want you to bite through the rope."

"She'll—she'll hurt us," came his whispered protest.

"She'll hurt us whether we do anything or not," she pointed out. "And she'll expect me to try something. Now, please. You said you'd try to help."

She could hear his increased breathing as he struggled with his fear. Then, her wrists were jerked as he lunged and caught the rope in his teeth. Kikyo ground her own teeth together as spasms of pain ran up her arms as her wrists were repeatedly jerked, as the hanyo worked to get a satisfactory hold on the rope. The tugs evened out as she felt him begin chewing, and she could have smiled as she heard something that might have been a very faint growl.

Her hands came free with a final jerk. Pulling her arms forward, Kikyo rubbed her wrists and flexed her hands, then leaned forward to untie her ankles. That knot came undone easily, and she used her three good limbs to move back a bit, so she could look at Inuyasha's face. His mouth was working, his expression one of disgust, his ears at half-mast. "What's wrong?"

"Rope in tongue," he muttered.

She realized that pieces of the rough rope must have come off while he chewed, leaving individual strands behind. It was probably worse, because he had to have a mouth even dryer than her own. "Let me see if I can help," she offered, leaning over to touch his face.

He jerked away, eyes going wide and ears flat. "Don't touch me!" he gasped, somehow keeping his voice low. He looked away, shivering again. "Just—don't."

"Inuyasha—" she started to whisper, then sighed. "I'll do my best—but I want to purify and remove the ropes. They're leaking poison into your body." Suiting action to words, she labored to her knees, grimacing as pain stabbed up her bad leg. Moving closer, she looked for the knots in the ropes. She found two, but the first one she attempted to untie proved to be even tighter than the gag. "Ow," she hissed as another nail broke. "Why didn't I think to put a knife in my sleeves before I left?" she grumbled.

"If you purify the ropes, maybe I can break them."

Leaning back, Kikyo peered down into Inuyasha's shadowed face. "I could burn you if I do that," she pointed out.

He lifted his head a little, turning it so both eyes made contact. "I—trust you."

Her eyes burned with tears. "Oh, Inuyasha..."

The hanyo dropped his head back to the ground, eyes closing. "Just do it."

Kikyo drew a deep breath, to steady her nerves and beat back the tears and the lump in the throat. "Keep your ears out for Tsubaki. Warn me if she comes back this way. All right?"

"Stop wasting time, wench."

_That_ was pure Inuyasha. Kikyo found the faintest of smiles tugging her lips as she reached out to lightly set her fingers on top of two sections of the ropes. Closing her eyes, she focussed on her breathing, letting her concentration deepen into something resembling a trance. It wasn't something she normally had to do. She had long been able to imbue her power into her arrows with little more than a bare thought. But to purify the ropes without harming Inuyasha, and without alerting Tsubaki, would require both precision and delicacy of touch, and with the pain in her head and body a constant threat of distraction. She had to move to a place where there was so pain, where there was no fear. She had to find the place where her power flowed freely and precisely, and where the youki energies of rope and bound body stood clear and distinct.

She found that place. Found where her physical fingers lay atop the rope. Carefully, gently, she urged her purifying power to seep into the middle of the poison rope. The poison in the strands faded before her pale pink power. She pushed a little more—

And the section of rope disintegrated with a tiny pop and a squeal. Kikyo snapped her eyes open, and discovered that the rope was moving, its broken ends writhing away from her. It was not normal rope soaked in poison; the entire thing was youkai! She lashed out and grabbed the ends before they could get out of range. She let a small pulse of purification flash from each hand. The apparent rope ends flared and disintegrated, and the pulse of power moved down the rope, like two small fires lit at the end of a rope of tinder.

Inuyasha grunted at the entire set of ropes binding him started to writhe, and then fall apart. Tiny squeals of fear rose as the rope fell into individual youkai that looked like crosses of snakes and rope. Astonished, Kikyo grabbed and grabbed again, her hands glowing with power. Many pieces of rope died, but more escaped into the darkness.

The squeals faded, and Kikyo sat back, feeling stunned. She glanced at Inuyasha's face, and saw that he looked surprised as well. "I didn't know youkai could become ropes," she said softly.

"I didn't know either." They stared at each other a long moment, before Kikyo recalled herself. "You should rest—try to get some of your strength back. Let me help you get into a more comfortable position." Tentatively, she reached out a hand.

"Don't." He didn't quite flinch away. "I'll do it—myself." White flickered at the periphery of her vision. Snapping her head around, Kikyo was startled to see a white appendage settling over the uppermost thigh.

"I didn't know you had a tail!" she whispered, strangling an untoward giggle. She was very glad she managed that when she heard Inuyasha's growl.

"Not mine," he whispered, with an edge of hate in his voice. "Witch-bitch's spell."

In a spurt of totally inappropriate humor, Kikyo wanted to tease him that the tail went with his ears. Then he stiffened, ears snapping forward, and her amusement faded as his sniffed.

"Horses," he whispered tersely. "Two. Running towards us. Bleeding. Terrified." His eyes narrowed, and he sniffed again. "Youkai."

Any sense of amusement vanished. "Our horses bolted," she said. "Tsubaki probably sent youkai to find them and drive them back."

There was a puzzled sound from Inuyasha. "A monk caused my horse to shy and go down in the rain several days ago," she explained. "Broke my leg, and almost my head. He offered to help me rescue you." She sighed. "I thought we had her, when we broke through her barrier. But she managed to launch an attack. Miyatsu blocked it, or I'd be dead, and, well, you probably felt the explosion."

"What—are you planning to do?"

Kikyo tried to think of something. If she and Inuyasha could crawl back to where Miyatsu lay, she could try and put up a barrier until the two men had a chance to recover. But how long would her barrier last against Tsubaki? Just purifying the rope youkai had left her feeling drained.

"Try to find my arrows," she decided. "I didn't think to look earlier, but some may have spilled when the horse bolted. If I can find some, I might be able to take her by surprise. Or at least destroy a few more youkai."

He gave her a look that was hard to read in the dark. Then, with a grunt and a twist, he was somehow on his elbows and knees. "I'll—come—too," he said, panting against his obvious pain.

"No!" she denied as vehemently she could in a mere whisper. "'Yasha, you need to rest, recover your strength!" She flicked a glance at his hands, swollen into shapelessness, and had already noted the visible breaks in his leg. "I'll manage."

"No." Setting his teeth in a grimace, he forced himself up onto his hands, and then looked at her, sweat streaking his face. "You—wanted me—to try. This—is—try."

"I know, but..."

She met his eyes. The irises were almost invisible, as the pupils had widened to drink in the moonlight, reflecting back a greenish, alien glow. Then he closed his eyes, and his head and his ears drooped. "I-I don't—don't—leave me—alone..."

It was madness for him to even try and move with a shattered leg and broken hands, not to mention all the other wounds in his body. But wasn't it also madness, to think she had any chance against the dark priestess, who had apparently come out of the explosion physically uninjured, however much power she might have lost?

Kikyo sighed. "We'll go together." He lifted his head and looked at her, and she smiled sadly. Then, on impulse, she crawled two 'steps' forward and reached over to touch his face. Inuyasha flinched, but she ignored his movement, leaning over to gently press her lips on his. He flinched again, a thin whine of fear trickling from his throat. She thought he was going to pull away, but then, he returned the pressure. Their kiss was as chaste as their first one, but different, for this was less a promise, and more an acknowledgment of their hope, their desire, that would probably never come true.

"Beloved."

He looked at her, shaking, tears streaking down his face. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. He could not say it, she saw. But he tried. And that was enough. She caressed his cheek a final time, before letting her hand drop back to the ground. "Let's go."


	27. Chapter 27: Defiance

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XXVII: Defiance  
**

He would have fled, had he two good legs to run on. It was the horses. One had dashed in front of them barely two lengths away as they had started to crawl towards the arrows Inuyasha had detected, screaming in pain and terror, blood and foam dripping from its flanks. The other could be heard running from a different direction, just as panicked. As they crawled behind a clump of bamboo, the sound of galloping hooves ceased.

That was when the horror began.

The screaming grew more terrible, as the two beasts were taken down and eaten alive by youkai. The horror--the stench, the screams, the miasma of pain and terror, and the sickening ecstasy of those that fed on that pain and terror--rolled over his senses and threatened to overwhelm him. There was nothing but blood and pain and death; he could scent and hear nothing else. Only the awareness of Kikyo's presence in front of him kept him going, one shaking limb at a time. His eyes were glued to her form as it slowly crawled towards where he had scented arrows that wouldn't be clearly visible from where the dark priestess stood. Kikyo was his sole tie to sanity in the world that had abruptly dived into horror. She was with him. She wanted him. She needed him. Only that kept him going, dragging his bad leg behind him, putting his weight on his injured hands, not even able to feel the pain for the terror.

He ran into her, not realizing that she had stopped. She looked back at him, then turned around. Reaching out, she touched his face with one hand. He recoiled, but then the scent of her hand penetrated the stench that had overwhelmed his nose. Blindly, he pressed back against that touch, turning his head and burying his nose in her palm. Wholesome scents replaced the horrific ones; her human scent, her sweat, ordinary dirt, grass, dead leaves, along with fainter smells of leather and wood; even the rice balls she had eaten for lunch left their mark. She tried to move her hand, and he moved with it, keeping his nose pressing against her palm.

"Inuyasha?" One of his ears twitched, moving to gather in that barely voiced call. The tight grip of terror began to loosen. The screaming had died. His other ear rotated forward, taking in her heartbeat and her breathing. He snuffled against her hand once more, and then let out a long sigh, letting his head drop, and his body droop between his shoulder blades. The hand touched his face again, and his fear of being touched was still buried beneath the other terrors. He returned the pressure, needing the reassurance of the contact.

"Can you go on?" she breathed again. Inuyasha drew a deep breath, the fetid stench of death back in his nose, but this time not losing track of the other scents. Letting his breath out in another sigh, he opened his eyes and looked up. She was watching him anxiously. He gave her a small nod, and her expression eased. Dropping her hand, she picked up four arrows with that hand--three of them wrapped with paper, then resumed her grasp of her bow of the other. "Let's go, then."

He started after her, his fear drifting higher as he realized they were heading directly towards the source of the stench and miasmic aura. And Tsubaki. His ears flattened again, and his chest started to tighten. His hands throbbed and his leg ached. He had to keep going, he reminded himself. He'd told Kikyo he would try. It was going to fail, but he would try anyway. For Kikyo. Anything for Kikyo.

They halted behind another clump of bamboo. At least three red lights drifted a bit more than head height above the area. To one side lay a dark lump which Inuyasha's nose identified as a man--presumably the monk. Two equine skeletons, not yet entirely clean of flesh, were sprawled on top of blood- and gore-soaked grass. Next to the closer one, Tsubaki knelt, rummaging through the saddlebags that she had clearly pulled off the carcass.

From the corner of his eye, Inuyasha saw Kikyo push three of the arrows tip-first in to the ground. Easing backwards so that most of his weight was one his one good foot, Inuyasha glanced at Kikyo. She returned his look. Moving her bow a bit, she touched the wood with her free hand, held up four fingers, then pointed to him and made a brief gesture. He nodded, understanding. She would be shooting the four arrows, and then he would leap, going for Tsubaki's throat, going on the chance Kikyo's arrows would manage to break the priestess' barrier. His fear shrieked at the thought, screaming that Tsubaki would hurt him worse than ever. Inuyasha swallowed hard and told the fear to shut up. This was for Kikyo. He had to protect her. He had to protect the villagers. There was a throat to tear out; pale skin over hot, rushing blood, and he would do it. For them. Because she threatened them. Kikyo. Kaedae. Korana.

Kikyo drew back on the bow, holding it almost horizontal to clear the ground. Panting, Inuyasha stared straight ahead, waiting for the multiple 'thwip' of the released arrows. The bow creaked as the tension increased.

"Kikyo dear, did you really think you could take me by surprise?"

Four arrows cracked and fell apart. The bowstring released, as Kikyo made a small sound of surprise. Inuyasha started, nearly losing his balance. Kikyo muttered something, and Inuyasha, who had been telling himself to lunge anyway, flinched again as he felt something go up around the two of them.

Tsubaki laughed and stood up. "That isn't going to save you either, my dear Kikyo." She started walking towards the pair, sliding the black and white knife out of her sleeve. Her eyes shifted sideways, and she smirked. "And you actually got the puppy to come with you? You do know what I'm going to do to you, don't you, puppy?"

Inuyasha cringed, his fear roaring upward. A thin whine trickled out of his throat as he started to shake. Something touched his arm, and he lurched away from it, losing his balance and falling into a curving wall that stung. Yelping, he writhed away, crumpling onto his side, where he curled up into a ball, whimpering. In the distance, there was laughter; that terrible, mocking laughter.

Something covered his nose. Terror strobed, and he gasped to cry out again, then smelled the same combination of odors as before. Thought threaded through the howl of fear, and Inuyasha reached up to clasp the hand for a moment. "Ki-kyo." She was there. The real Kikyo. He didn't want her there. He didn't want to see her die. But she was there. She had come for him. For Inuyasha.

That awareness gave him the strength to crawl back to his hands and knees. Panting and shaking from the strobes of fear, he saw Kikyo's hand, open and extended. He grasped it gently, bringing his eyes up to meet hers. The red light did not need to add to the warmth in her eyes. He breathed in, tasting her pain and her quiet, calm, determination. There was fear, but it was only a background thing, that sharpened her senses and made her more aware of everything around her and within in her. Inuyasha felt some of his trembling ease. "Kikyo."

"Inuyasha."

They turned their attention back to the dark priestess, who had stopped laughing. She walked up to the barrier, the knife beginning to glow with red and black streams of energy winding around each other. "Very good, Kikyo. The puppy cares enough for you that he manages to show a little bit of courage. But do you think that will really help him, when I have the villagers tear him to pieces, after they watch him rape and kill you?"

Inuyasha flung his head back, staring at the dark priestess in utter shock. "Never!"

"She's trying to bait you, Inuyasha," said Kikyo, squeezing his hand just the tiniest bit. "Tsubaki, you do realize that what you're doing it not worthy of your sensei's teachings? He seemed an honorable and compassionate man when we met: your actions, if he knows of them, must wound him deeply."

Tsubaki started, going pale. "You--!" Her free hand tightened into a fist. "Honorable!" she spat after a long moment. "He refused to make you turn over the Shikon No Tama to me!"

"He must have known your soul wasn't pure enough to purify the jewel," Kikyo replied. "If you had had a pure soul, to you really think you would have ever sunk to trading bits of your soul to youkai for power? Would have accepted the power that came from the torturous death of two innocent animals? Would have tortured and broken a hanyo who didn't even know you, had never harmed you?"

Tsubaki shook her head, as if to clear it. "Never harmed me?" she asked, incredulous. "He destroyed the Shikon No Tama! He destroyed the power that should have been mine!"

"The jewel's power would have destroyed you, Tsubaki. It would have turned you into a monster."

"You fool!" scoffed Tsubaki, anger flashing in her eyes. "You ignorant, sanctimonious little fool! That jewel would have given me eternal life and youth, would have given me more power than a thousand youkai, and that disgusting, dirty half-breed of yours destroyed it! That foul hanyo of yours should suffer! And to think that you, the oh-so-pure, the perfect little miko, was stupid and weak enough to fall in love with him!"

"There's more to life than power, Tsubaki."

Inuyasha sensed more than saw Kikyo shifting the position of her bow, and felt her hand leaving his. He didn't react physically, still vibrating inside from the shock of Tsubaki's suggestion, that she would somehow turn him against Kikyo. But his instincts below the level of his confused emotions stirred.

"Thus speaks those who fear power, or who know they'll never have it," jeered Tsubaki, her face twisted in anger and malice. "Like you, Kikyo. You think you can resist me? When that monk of yours is still lying unconscious and vulnerable? If I tell you to take down your barrier, or I'll go over and slit the monk's neck, do you really think you'll have the power to refuse me?"

"I do not believe in sacrificing others for myself, Tsubaki," replied Kikyo. "As you can see."

The barrier came down. Tsubaki looked startled, then started to smile. "Oh, very good, dear Kikyo. Perhaps--"

Kikyo lunged with no warning, her bow erupting in light as it was swept sideways and up in a two-handed grip. It slammed into a barrier, then went through it, its momentum barely slowed. It hit the hand holding the knife. White power and dark erupted at the point on contact. With a crack, the knife went flying. "Now!" she cried out, but Inuyasha did not need her cry. He leapt, in a flat arc that took him just above her swinging bow. His teeth were bared, and he had one goal in mind, one target in view.

"No!" Tsubaki screamed. The collar tightened as the last-ditch spell activated. His breath choked and his vision dimmed, but not soon enough. He bowled her over, and all his awareness centered on that slender, white neck. The collar couldn't stop his jaws, couldn't stop his fangs. He had her--

The scarred eye flashed white. Less than a hands-breadth from burying his fangs in her neck, Inuyasha suddenly felt youkai slamming into his face and shoulder. He missed, his teeth snapping together, striking nothing but air, and then his momentum and theirs sent him down to the ground on his shoulder. He tumbled, the collar throttling his screams as the youkai shredded the side of his face and ripped through his shoulder. He blacked out--

And came to as someone else screamed.

His head snapped up. His breath came easily, but he didn't notice. With his one unclouded eye, he saw Tsubaki holding up Kikyo by her hair. The knife was back in her hand, and the obsidian edge was pressing into Kikyo's neck, just under her chin. Blood flowed, but it was not the cut that made the miko scream.

He felt it, felt the aura of her power and her life being pulled from her. Tsubaki was trying to steal her power, as she had been trying to steal his. She was hurting Kikyo.

_His_ Kikyo.

Kikyo!

The rage was suddenly back in his blood. Fire sparked through his body, burning away the pain and fear. Red flashed momentarily before his eyes, and then he was on his feet, snarling, hands arching back into claws, his ears flat. "Let her go, you witch!" he screamed, feeling his youki pulse. "Let her go, or I'll kill you!"

She started, whipping her head around to stare at him, mouth agape. But only for a moment. Moving her blade, she let go of Kikyo's hair and shoved her. The miko collapsed limply to the ground. He snarled again, feeling his youki pulse a second time. "How many times have you tried now, little puppy?" she asked, bringing the knife before her, the twisted tip pointing at him. "You're a very slow learner. Let's see if you can learn this time..."

He leapt as a whip of spiraling white and red snaked out of the knife tip. It missed, but he had to twist to avoid the three youkai coming at him from behind. He slashed at them, but the eldritch claws were small and weak. One youkai squealed as it blundered directly into the path of the claws and fell, not quite torn into several pieces, but the other two received only wounds. He ducked, but then found the ground coming up too soon. He landed off balance, instinctively stepped out onto his bad foot, and collapsed to one knee. Snarling, he went to his hands only long enough to take off from a three-pointed stance. The whip lashed out again, and this time caught his arm. He screamed as his arm burned from the miko power wrapped around it. The whip jerked, and he slammed into the ground on his other shoulder.

Inuyasha refused to give up. Snarling, he struggled to his hands and knees. Lifting his head, he glared at the dark priestess. She smirked, lifted her knife, and made a tiny beckoning gesture with her other hand. He lunged.

A narrow-bodied youkai, less than half his hand in width, and half his height in length, shot out from behind Tsubaki. He tried to dodge, but the only difference was that the youkai pierced his side instead of his middle. It went through him like an arrow at close range, and Inuyasha froze for the thinnest of moments.

And then, he fell.


	28. Chapter 28: Miyatsu

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XXVIII: Miyatsu**

**  
**His head must be split open to be hurting so bad. Miyatsu groaned, then tried to lift his hand, intending to touch his forehead and see if it was truly in two pieces or not. He groaned again as stabbing pain ran up his arm at the attempt to move it. His fingers twitched, and his hands announced that both of them hurt even worse than his arms. In fact, his entire body ached, as if something had fallen on him. With most of it falling on his head, from the way every part of his skull, including his nose was throbbing. Even his ears were in on the chorus, as they insisted on ringing; like a pair of high-pitched bells sized to be deliberately out of tune with each other.

"M-Mistress?" The voice seemed curiously muffled, and not quite human. "Tsubaki-s-sama? Is that you?"

_Tsubaki?_ Miyatsu's wandering wits suddenly re-ordered themselves, bringing back his memory. He'd been trying to block the dark priestess' return attack on Kikyo, after they'd shattered her outer shield. The power behind that attack had been frighteningly large, enough that it would have killed Kikyo-sama in an instant. Unfortunately, his power had already been drained in the initial attack. He'd known that an ordinary shield would never survive that intended attack. Instead, he had tried to cast one of the shielding spells he'd learned during his recent stay at one of the western temples, one that would, if properly cast, reflect the power used against it back to the attacker. Unfortunately, it was one he had not quite managed to perfect. He had rather hoped that desperation would substitute for skill—

Stupid monk.

"M-mistress?"

Definitely a female voice. But a servant of the dark priestess? Alarm flickered in his still somewhat muddled head. Telling himself to ignore the pain, Miyatsu began searching with one hand for his staff, only to encounter pieces of wood. His staff must have shattered, he realized, reaching inside his robe for the pocket that contained his ofuda, his sets of papers infused with charms. They were still present, he discovered. Relieved, and realizing that the owner of the voice could not be planning an immediate attack, Miyatsu decided that it was time to start figuring out what had happened after his spell had misfired.

And get rid of the horrible ringing.

Carefully, he opened his eyes. At first, he saw nothing but blackness, but eventually, darker silhouettes began to resolve themselves against a speckled background. It was night, he realized, and he was seeing tree limbs and leaves against the starry sky. The stars, however, were not as bright as they might have been. Not moving his head, he began scanning the sky, looking for the waxing moon. He finally glimpsed it from the corner of his eye. It was low in the west. Which meant that he'd been knocked out for almost half the night.

If he hadn't been a monk, he would have sworn. This was bad. It wasn't his side that had won, that seemed obvious. But if they'd lost, then why was he still alive?

He suddenly realized that the discordant noise in his ears was not the aftermath of the broken spell, but was something outside of his aching head. Groaning, he rolled over onto his side, looking around. He spotted the short stake with the glowing ofuda tied to it. Unfortunately, it was just out of reach. Glaring at the stake, Miyatsu forced himself onto his hands and knees, waited out the surge of nausea that accompanied that movement, and then crawled to the stake and plucked it out of the ground. Immediately, the ringing stopped, much to his relief. Setting a ward to make an audible alarm made sense, when the person to be protected wasn't the caster. But setting a discordant alarm had to be deliberate. _Either that, or Tsubaki has no ear at all_, he groused to himself.

Movement attracted his eye, and the monk realized that the ward spell had also been part of a larger shielding spell, which had also come down when he had removed the stake. Squinting, he saw that the form was rotund, and somewhat short in human terms. It appeared to be wearing a kimono, and some sort of scarf on its head. On either side of the scarf were two triangular—ears?

"Oh!" The figure twitched. "You're not the mistress!" It gave a bow. "Please, please forgive this one! I did not mean to disturb your sleep—I will go now—" It turned to leave. As it did so, its striped tail came into view.

"Tanuki-san, wait! Please."

The tanuki jumped, then turned back to face him. "Sir?" it asked, sounding apprehensive.

A tanuki. Miyatsu gingerly eased himself to a seated position, interest sparking despite his headache and his nausea. What was a dark priestess doing with a tanuki servant? He'd always thought that dark priestesses—like most magic-using humans who chose to use their powers against others—worked alone. "You did not disturb me, tanuki-san," he said reassuringly. "I had an accident, and was knocked out. Your mistress—Tsubaki, you said—?—must have been the person who put up a ward and shield around me. A pity that she could not have stayed to receive my thanks."

"She did? My mistress said she was leaving with the hanyo and wouldn't be back for a day or two. I was just searching for some herbs when I sensed a kind of, um, explosion. Something about it felt like my mistress, and it wasn't very far away, and I was afraid she might have been hurt again, so I came—is she all right?"

"If your mistress was the person who set the ward, then she must be all right, tanuki-san."

"Oh. Of course." The tanuki sounded relieved. "I should have known that." She gave him another bow. "Thank-you, sir. I will leave you alone, then."

"Wait, tanuki-san." She turned back. Miyatsu gave her the best smile he could manage, between his headache and his increasingly-uneasy stomach. "Please forgive me for asking a favor of you, tanuki-san. You spoke of gathering herbs—do you by any chance have any herbs for a truly ferocious headache? I fear my horses must be halfway to the next province by now."

"Oh, no, they aren't," exclaimed the tanuki, sounding surprised. "They're right here—I think some youkai must have cornered them and ate them. See?" She pointed.

_Ate them?_ Miyatsu whipped his head around to look in the direction indicated. The motion was ill-considered. He caught a glimpse of two mostly-denuded skeletons, before the rapid motion—and a whiff of stench getting past the stuffiness in his nose—upset the uneasy equilibrium. His stomach had its way, and he was not able to move fast enough to avoid soiling his robes. The nausea faded as his stomach emptied itself, but his headache seemed to redouble. He fought unconsciousness out of sheer stubbornness, supporting himself with one hand, eyes closed tightly, throat burning. He vaguely knew that he couldn't afford to faint, though he couldn't recall why.

A cool paw patted his forehead. "Ningen-sama?" came the tanuki's voice. "You are ill? Can you hold on if I carry you? I have remedies in my hut which work on humans." Miyatsu didn't remember saying yes, but the next thing he noticed was being lifted up, with fur under his hands. There was a soft 'pop', and an abrupt sensation of a rising rapidly. His nausea threatened to return, and he swallowed hard several times to keep his stomach from rebelling. The nausea faded, and he realized that a strong breeze was cooling his bare scalp, and that what had been cloth under his fingers had changed to a smooth softness, which felt something like leather, but much softer and warmer. His entire body was being supported by that softness.

Curiosity should have had him looking around and learning what was happening. The horrific headache and uncertain stomach, coupled with a vague awareness that he should know what was happening, kept his eyes closed.

Miyatsu found himself, sometime later, starting to be able to think again, as a surprisingly bland potion proved to tame both his headache and his nausea. Holding a cup of water in his left hand—which hurt less than his right, Miyatsu felt restored enough to start looking around. 'Hut' might have been a bit of a misnomer—the tanuki's shelter was actually a shallow cave, which apparently had been built out beyond the entrance with woven branches. The fire was towards the back of the cave, underneath a natural chimney. He was propped up along one wall, near the fire, a pad stuffed with what smelled to be dried grasses behind his shoulders and head. His outermost robe had been removed and was being wiped clean by the tanuki, while his kimono was down around his waist. Looking down, Miyatsu examined himself. Most of the cuts caused by the splinters were small, and had only had to have the wood picked out and the cut cleaned. One large splinter had lodged in his left bicep and had had to be cut out, which the tanuki had done with surprising skill, given the clumsy appearance of her paws. A strip of cloth bound that wound, and more strips wound around the palm of both hands.

So. Miyatsu took a sip of water, and then closed his eyes to think. Tsubaki had almost certainly captured Kikyo and retained her hold on the hanyo. She had, for some reason, decided not to kill him, and even took time and effort to make sure he was protected against predators. Did that mean she still had some vestiges of conscience? Or did she have some other motives for leaving him alive?

At the moment, that question had to stay unresolved. What mattered were his actions. It must be getting very late. Tsubaki was probably assuming that he would be unable to catch up to her before she finished murdering the miko and the hanyo. That would explain why the horses had been destroyed: to prevent his being able to catch up. So what was he going to do? He had promised Kikyo to help her rescue her hanyo: he intensely disliked the thought of failing, regardless of his opinion of her fascination for the hanyo. Two steps were needed: he had to figure out a way to get to Tsubaki before she killed the two, and he had to figure out a way to fight her without his staff. But how was he to do even the first step?

Opening his eyes, he studied the tanuki, trying to call up all the lore he knew about her kind. They were shape-shifters, by repute, and inclined to mischief. They were also said to be somewhat gullible. Miyatsu narrowed his eyes. This tanuki seemed rather naïve, didn't she? She had said that she had come to see if her mistress had been injured, yet she had apparently not even considered the possibility that he was a foe to her mistress.

Shape-shifter. He was certain she had shifted shapes to bring him to the cave, but the pain had been so bad that he hadn't been paying attention. But he did have a few vague recollections, and if they were reasonably accurate...

"Tanuki-san," he said. The tanuki looked up, and he gave her a smile. "Would you grant me the honor of knowing your name? I would give you proper thanks for your assistance to my humble self."

She looked surprised, then gratified: or so he thought—it was hard to read a muzzled, furred face. "Yukuuku, sir."

"And my name is Miyatsu, Yukuuku-san. I thank-you from the bottom of my heart for succoring my wounded body. I am indebted to you, Yukuuku-san."

"Oh." Her eyes opened wide, and she sat back from her work, forepaws dangling limply, her ears fully upright. "Ah, well, it was, oh, it was nothing!"

"You must permit me to disagree, Yukuuku-san," he said, smiling at her. "Just taking me here to this cave—however did you manage it? My head was hurting so badly that I didn't pay attention; but it must have been very difficult to carry me, given that I am taller than yourself."

"Oh no, Miyatsu-sama! It was simple—I just pulled you onto my back, then transformed to my flying form, and brought you here."

"You flew?" Miyatsu responded with apparent amazement and admiration, even as he mentally gave a small shout of satisfaction. He'd been right. "That's amazing!"

She looked flustered and flattered both. Miyatsu felt a twinge of conscience, at what he planned to do. If she had been serving Tsubaki, then the dark priestess was going to be furious when she saw the tanuki helping him. The tanuki could be in trouble, _would_ be in trouble if Tsubaki defeated them again. It wasn't right to take advantage of the obviously naïve tanuki and put her in harms' way.

But there were more important lives at stake, he argued with himself. He must and would do everything in his power to rescue the miko. And the hanyo, since he had given his word. He would try to work things out so that the tanuki wouldn't be in immediate danger from the dark priestess. As for tricking the creature, he would have to take that burden on his soul, and atone for it later. Kikyo's and the hanyo's lives were far more important than the wrong of manipulating a mere tanuki.

He gave Yukuuku his most charming smile. At least the tanuki was female, he thought, as he considered what to say. That would make it easier, to pretend he was flattering a beautiful young woman.

Come to that, she might well _be_ a beautiful young woman. For a tanuki.


	29. Chapter 29: Before the Edge of Day

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XXIX: Before the Edge of Day**

The wounded youkai she'd called back was so terrified at helping transport a miko and the hanyo that Tsubaki was forced to spend most of her concentration on keeping it –and its companion, which was affected by its panic--under control. By the time she reached her destination, only the thought that she might want it for transportation back to her house kept her from killing it out of sheer annoyance. Instead, keeping a firm grip on her temper, she dismissed the pair and let them flee into the nearby forest, confident that the links she'd fashioned would bring them back at her call.

As they fled, a soft squeak brought her attention around to a small, black-skinned, winged youkai that looked vaguely like a cross between a bat and a worm. "So you spread the dust over the village?" she murmured. It squeaked again, fanning its wings, bobbing up and down. "Very good," she told it. "You may go."

It chittered, its rate of bobbing increasing. Tsubaki smiled thinly at its palpable anger and greed. "Did I?" she responded. "Oh, very well--you may. But just a little--or I'll turn you inside out."

The small youkai squeaked happily, before turning on a wing and diving. Confident that everyone--including the guards--would be asleep and unable to see, Tsubaki summoned her spell-lights, then watched as the youkai settled onto the hanyo's side, dug the claws on the tips of its wings into his skin, and then plunged its jaws ino the raw wound. The hanyo jerked, but did not awaken, and Tsubaki let her smile slide into a smirk. When the hanyo had fainted, she had been quick to re-bind and re-gag him, before weaving a spell about his mind, cursing him to relive the rapes. The loss of the 'Kikyo' puppet meant she could not directly put him through that torture, but she could make him suffer. His face was streaked with sweat and tears, his whimpers smothered by the gag. His body shivered and twitched, and his aura was filled with his terror and pain.

Good enough. She turned her attention to the area where she had landed. It was on one side of the village, next to the river near several old trees. The enspelled dust would ensure that the villagers slept until sunrise. When they woke, they would have an unpleasant surprise. She smiled to herself again, then turned her attention to the various bags the youkai had left behind along with the two prisoners. She had work to do.

* * *

Kaede had not slept well since her sister's departure. She frequently dreamed of the fake youkai that Tsubaki had put into her memories. Sometimes it killed Inuyasha all over again. More often, it killed her sister, grinning at her as it consumed her sister's body, and she lay helpless, watching. Sometimes, she dreamed of the moment when she'd knelt by her sister's dead body, on the porch of the shrine, begging her to come back to life, only to have her come back to life as a monster. Once, she had dreamed that she had been running towards the meadow, knowing that she had to warn her sister about something, that she couldn't recall. She caught sight of her sister—and of a familiar red- and white- blur coming up behind a smiling, oblivious Kikyo. She'd watched, with utter horror, as golden claws slashed out from that figure's hands, as her sister had staggered as Inuyasha's claws slashed through her shoulder and back, as her sister, betrayed, had fallen to the grass—

That one had scared her more than any of the others.

She started awake from yet another nightmare. Rolling into a tighter ball, she hugged herself under the cover, staring into the darkness. On the other side of the panel, she could hear the even breathing of Satsuki and her youngest daughter. She felt relieved that she had not woken them up with her cries. Satsuki and Yasuo had insisted that she not stay in the hut by herself. She'd had no choice in the matter, but she'd felt bad about how many times she'd been waking other people up. Not she would have wanted to stay in the hut, stinking as it was with malice and hate as well as blood, despite several attempts to clean it up. The hut would need to be spiritually cleansed before it was inhabitable, if ever. She'd even overhead Yasuo and Satsuki discussing if it wouldn't be better simply to burn it down and rebuild; but the absence of Kikyo and the demands of the farming season had put that discussion on hold. They had simply required Kaede to move into the headman's relatively sizeable house, with Satsuki and her unmarried children moving in as well, to provide company and avoid any appearance of impropriety.

Sighing, she set up. She wasn't at all sleepy at the moment. As if to dispute that thought, she yawned the next moment, and then coughed as something caught in her throat. Clapping her hand on her mouth, she struggled to suppress the cough. Her nose stung, and she sneezed. Ow! She sneezed again. Belatedly, she realized that there was an odd, strange odor in the air: a musty, dusty, smell that held a hint of the wild flowers that bloomed in the morning and died in the  
evening.

Sneezing again, she pinched her nose in an effort to stop the sneezes, but that only led to her start coughing again. Realizing that there was something in the air, she grabbed her bed-clothing to use as a shield. The odor strengthened, and her sneezes increased. Dropping that cloth, she staggered to her feet and stumbled to the baskets along the wall. Rummaging blindly through the nearest one, she pulled out a length of cloth and held several crumpled layers before her nose and mouth. The sneezing faded, though her nose was prickled anew by the sharp odor coming from the dye.

Puzzled as to the source of the odor, Kaede walked carefully towards the closest, keeping the cloth to her face with one hand, while she used the other hand to guide her in the lightless house. As she gingerly pushed back the sliding door and stepped out onto the porch, she gave a little sigh of relief, as the starlight gave a tiny bit of light to see by. There was no sign that the moon was up, which meant, if she had the cycle right, that it was very, very late.

Pulling the cloth away from her nose, the girl sniffed carefully, and then reburied her nose as she sneezed. The smell was even stronger outside. What was it, she wondered, as she walked towards the corner of the porch, thinking she'd see if the men keeping watch in the tower had noticed anything. She felt as if she ought to know what it was; something her sister had told her; or something they had met on their travels. It must have been a long time ago, when she was just a little girl, or why couldn't she remember it?

Kaede halted abruptly as a red glow caught the edge of her vision. It was not the glow of a fire, or a torch. Fear nipping the back of her mind, she edged forward to the corner of the building, and looked around. Down the river, still on the village side, just past the last houses, where several ancient trees marked a small field that was occasionally used for grazing the horses, or was used as a mid-day gathering spot during the height of the harvest season. Two red glows drifted in the area in front of the trees. Kaede swallowed in a sudden surge of fright, as a possibility leapt to mind. Youkai! Was that a youkai by the trees? What was it doing there?

Shivering, the girl watched the glowing points of light. Quite quickly, she realized that the two points could not belong to a two-eyed creature. The points moved independent of each other, and were usually too far apart for even a large skull. It could be two one-eyed creatures, but as Kaede remembered her lessons, she began to doubt it. Kikyo had told her about youkai eyes once, after an encounter with a three-eyed, youkai wolf at dusk. The glowing eyes had terrified the then six-year-old, though it had fled quickly when Kikyo had reached for her bow. Kikyo had explained that most youkai were active mostly at night, and needed to be able to see in the dark. Their eyes were more or less like a cat's, which could also seem to glow at night, when a torch- or fire- light hit their eyes. A few youkai's eyes did glow even in pitch darkness, but those were very powerful, the glowing part of their aura.

If the glows were from powerful youkai, even she ought to be able to sense something, though her spiritual powers weren't very strong yet. Kaede tried to figure out what the lights might be, then remembered her early lessons at the temple where Kikyo had trained. They must be spell-lights. But who would be using spell lights near the village at this time at night? And did the smell have anything to do with it?

The girl froze as the possible answer suddenly came to her. Tsubaki. The dark priestess who had stolen Inuyasha and cast a spell on her to make her think he was dead. The woman who her sister had left to track down. But if that was Tsubaki, where was Kikyo? Biting her lip, Kaede fought down a surge of fear. It might not be Tsubaki. If it was Tsubaki, then surely Kikyo was nearby, too, just waiting for the right moment to strike.

But what if Tsubaki had defeated her sister? Had captured her? Or, worse, what if she had killed Kikyo? What if her sister was dead?

Stop it! She shouted to her panicking mind. Shaking, Kaede tried to calm her panic, breathing deeply. Somehow, she managed to dredge up a meditation mantra and whisper it through the cloth muffling her face. A few repetitions later, and she felt the hammering of her heart slow. After a few moments of thought, she began to edge back towards the door, trying to be as quiet as she could. There was nothing she could do to fight whatever was out there, whether it was some powerful youkai or the dark priestess. What she could do was go wake up Yasuo. He wasn't a priest or monk; he wasn't Kikyo. But he was the headman, and he had already proven that he would listen to her. He would know what to do.

* * *

"Thirsty, my dear?" 

Kikyo swallowed the water flowing into her mouth, then gasped and nearly choked as pain flashed beneath her chin. Snapping her eyes open, she looked up through the red-lit darkness to Tsubaki's smirking face. "You!"

"Yes, me," agreed Tsubaki. "How does it feel to be the loser? Don't you regret not letting me have the Shikon No Tama?"

"No." Kikyo closed her eyes as her head start to pound ferociously. "What have you done with Inuyasha?" she asked, trying to ignore her sense of exhaustion, and a peculiar unwellness that wasn't quite nausea, and wasn't quite pain, yet somehow both. She tried to concentrate on her miko senses, and failed. "You'd better not have hurt him."

Tsubaki laughed. "You are threatening me? My dear Kikyo, you can't even stand by yourself, let alone harm me. As for your half-breed lover, don't worry, he's not dead. Yet. Take a look."

Kikyo felt a hand grab her chin and force it around. Cracking her eyes open, distantly realizing that she was tied to a tree in an upright position, she stared straight ahead to the area illuminated by one of Tsubaki's light spells. Inuyasha was on the ground a few lengths from her, gagged and bound as before, though with bonds only at his wrists and ankles, rather than the more extensive binding she'd seen before. His left shoulder and side of his face was caked with blood from numerous slashes, while a more severe wound above his right hip still bled sluggishly. His eyes were closed tightly, and even with the distortion of the gag, she could see that his expression was one of fear. His ears were flat against the short bristle of his scalp, and he was twitching and jerking, his body streaked with sweat. Kikyo's heart ached to see him, and she wanted, more than anything, to gather him into her arms, free him of his bonds, and comfort him until the fear left him.

But she could not let her enemy see her inner pain. Moving her eyes, feeling the cold mask slide onto her face, she looked at Tsubaki. Who had, she noted, taken the time and power to cover up her scar. "And the monk?" she asked. "What have you done with him?"

Tsubaki chuckled. "I decided to be generous. I left him underneath a protective ward spell, which will last at least until he wakes up." She smirked. "I'm not entirely heartless, my dear."

More than likely, Kikyo thought, Tsubaki did not want to risk trying to control three prisoners. With a quick mental prayer for Miyatsu's safety, Kikyo looked around. Above her head was a weathered, broken stub of a branch, with a peculiar kink before the break that she recognized. Dropping her gaze, she saw several bags on the ground, and her bow and quiver. The quiver was not quite empty, and one of the arrows was glowing.

"Odd arrow, that one," said Tsubaki. "It's a sacred arrow, but the power doesn't feel like yours. Where did you get it?"

Kikyo eyed the dark priestess. "Inuyasha."

"What?" Tsubaki snapped her head around. "What kind of nonsense are you talking? He's a hanyo—he can't handle spiritual power, and you know it!"  
She smiled slightly at the dark priestess and didn't answer. Tsubaki frowned at her, waited, before shrugging off her irritation. "Keep your secrets, then," she said. "Here." She held the tube of water up.

Kikyo drank the water, accepting her body's need for it, though knowing the dark priestess had no good reason behind her offering. She didn't really remember much, after her bow had broken through Tsubaki's shield, except for the sudden pain. But she felt exhausted, as if she had been fighting a youkai swarm many times larger than the one that had attacked the village. Tsubaki must have found a spell to drain her powers, and she could only hope that they would come back.

"I've decided to keep you until last," commented Tsubaki, pulling away the water. "Since you started all this, by refusing to let me have the Shikon No Tama." She smirked as Kikyo turned a calm gaze on her. "You'll get to watch everyone else die. That will hurt, won't it? If you hadn't been so foolish…"

Kikyo replied with as cool a tone as she could. "You said you were going to make Inuyasha rape and kill me."

Something glittered in the dark blue eyes. "We both priestesses, Kikyo; both women. We may be foes, but even I won't do that to another woman." She turned away. "Not for real."

* * *

Yasuo wouldn't wake up. Kaede thumped back onto her rear end, frustrated. What could she do? She'd done everything she could to wake the headman up, and nothing had worked, not even pouring a dipper of water on his face. The spell was too strong— 

Spell? Oh! Kaede wanted to slap herself. Why hadn't she seen that before? The smell in the air must have been some kind of dust or powder, carrying a sleep spell. It hadn't affected her—except for the sneezing—because she did have miko powers, even if they were still weak. There were defenses against such spells, but it required either a purifying barrier that neutralized the dust before it reached the victim, or a healing spell that broke the sleep spell over the individual.  
Neither of which she could do. Yet.

Kaede glowered down at her fists, wishing she were older and stronger. With Kikyo gone, she was the closest thing the village had to a miko. And a miko had a responsibility to protect the village. So she had to do something, but what?

Standing up, she made her careful way back to her room. Along the wall, next to the baskets, she found her bow and quiver. Moving the cloth from her face for a cautious sniff, she found that the dust must have settled enough, for she didn't sneeze. But after a moment's thought, she knelt and started rummaging through the baskets for a knife. Finding one, she pulled off the cloth, then measured a wide strip, and cut the fabric until she could grab the two sides and tear it. Folding the shorter width, the girl tied it over her nose and mouth. There would be dust still floating in the air outside, and if she was going to go find out what was happening under those red lights, she couldn't afford to start sneezing. She might be only a little girl, but even she knew that.

The knife went into her obi, and the quiver over her shoulder. Setting her mouth in a stubborn line, Kaede slipped towards the nearest door. But as she reached for the door, she hesitated. How could she possibly think she could do anything against the source of those lights? If those lights were youkai, they'd probably detect her before she could get close, and look what had happened when she'd tried to fight them last time! Her power was so weak that the one youkai she'd managed to hit with an arrow had only been angered. She'd lost her eye, and if Kikyo hadn't turned and fired in time, she would have been killed. And if it was Tsubaki, well, how could a girl possibly defend just herself—let alone the entire village—against a dark priestess?

Kaede clenched her bow with both hands, and fought against the urge to just go back to her bed and crawl beneath the covers, hoping that she would wake up to find it had only been a bad dream. But she couldn't. There wasn't anyone else to find out what was going on. She had to go outside and find out what was going on, even if all she could do was to run to the next village and beg for help. But she had to do it. She had to be brave. Like her sister. Like Inuyasha.

Taking a deep breath, Kaede took one hand off the bow, and slid the door open.

* * *

Tsubaki had had to resist the urge to keep taunting Kikyo. The love-mesmerized miko was a tempting target, but taunting her didn't get her other preparations done, and dawn was not that far away. Opening her supplies, she pulled out two stacks of spell papers, a bundle of tapered sticks, and a roll of cord. Tying the end of the cord to the first stick, she stood up and moved to the edge of the bank and fixed the stick in the ground, murmuring a spell as she did. Rolling out the cord, setting the sticks in the ground, she made a rough circle that took in most of the meadow, but excluded the tree to which Kikyo was bound. Tying the end of the cord to the first stick, she made a second circuit, using a second chant, tying the narrow strips of paper to the cord halfway between each stick, murmuring a chant as she did so. As she neared completion of the circle, she heard a splash from the river. Freezing in place, with one part of her mine holding the uncompleted spell steady, with the other, she called to the bat-winged youkai. It was to investigate the river and learn what had caused the splash.

It responded with a projection of a desire for more blood and youki. Tsubaki repeated her order, and the youkai reluctantly flitted into the air. Finishing the circle as quickly as she could, she straightened, letting her annoyance into the foreground of her thoughts. The lower orders of youkai were so greedy! She had been generous to let the little youkai have as much of the hanyo's blood and energy as it had. She needed all of the youki she could strip from his body when she killed him: letting the little youkai take more would be a waste.

Waiting for the youkai to return, she returned to her supplies, pulling out an object wrapped in black silk and tied with a silken cord. Untying the cord and pulling back the silk, she examined the contents of the package. The black and silver collar glowed, potent with her most powerful spells. The old collar, which the hanyo was still wearing, had been weakened by the multiple breakages of the spells contained within it. Having gained a better knowledge of the hanyo over the last several days, she had crafted this one. The spells in this collar would not break.

The youkai returned, twittering. There was nothing in the river except water and mortal animals. It projected again its desire. Irritated with it, Tsubaki let a hint of a threat color her response. Squeaking nervously, it retired quickly back to its roost. Deciding that the splash had only been a large fish or frog, Tsubaki dismissed the incident from her mind. Pulling the silk back around the black and gold collar, Tsubaki knelt by the hanyo's side. Letting her eyes focus on the energies about and within the hanyo, she noted that the curse of nightmares was still active. The spells in the old collar were quiescent. Setting the new collar aside, she touched the old one at the back of his neck and spoke a word. With a small crack, the collar broke into two pieces. Carefully removing them, she set them down on her other side, before picking up the new collar. Careful not to touch the collar with her bare skin, she eased the collar around the hanyo's neck. Pressing the two ends together, there was a muffled snap, a faint flare of red light, and then the two ends of the collar seemed to disappear as they merged together.

The active spell did not react, and the new spells coiled within the collar were clear and sharp-edged, waiting for their triggers. Satisfied with the transfer, the dark priestess touched a finger to his temple and broke the curse. Almost immediately, his body slumped, as the tension ran out of his muscles and his mind escaped into a deeper sleep. She waited a bit to make sure he was going to stay in the state, then leaned over and unfastened the gag. Straightening, she held out one hand, muttering a quick phrase. The ropes binding him fell away, returning to their active form, and wriggling to her outstretched hand, where they reformed into a single, coiled rope. The hanyo whimpered a little, then moved a bit, pulling his arms forward, his body curling into a loose ball. Satisfied that he probably wouldn't awaken until she forced him, Tsubaki gathered collar and silk into one hand, then stood up. She had one more barrier spell to erect, and then all she had to do was wait for sunrise, for her audience and victims to awake…

* * *

The river was undercutting the old tree. Kaede didn't know how long she had been clinging to its exposed roots, silently reciting a no-see-me spell. It had only thing she could think to do, when she had slipped on an unseen rock, landing on her hands and knees in the water. Terrified that she'd been heard, the girl had scrambled for the tree roots, pulling herself up, squirming as close to the loose soil as she could. Toes dug into the soil and holding on for dear life, she had concentrated on the spell chant as the only way to keep her fear throttled.

But how long should she wait? Kaede stopped the chant, trying to listen with her ears and her mind, as her sister had been training her. She didn't sense any youkai. But she did hear a voice, chanting softly. A chill of fear ran through her as she recognized it. The voice she had heard once before, rising above the steady thrum of rain on roof. The voice that had loosened her grip on the bow, and then which had sent her into a daze, in which she still could barely remember the voice questioning her. Her sister had identified that voice for her. Tsubaki.

Fighting down the fear and the questions that her mind wanted to scream out, Kaede set her jaw and started to wriggle towards the outside, staying as quiet as she could, being especially careful not to tangle her bow, which she was holding in one hand. Listening and moving slowly, the girl pulled herself onto the bank, not daring to even breathe as she pulled herself up and over. Feet still sticking out over the bank, she waited and listened, then, still hearing the chant, carefully got to her hands and knees, to crawl behind the massive tree trunk. She was close enough to notice several ropes tied around the trunk when the chanting stopped. Immediately, she froze, then, carefully, slowly, began to lower herself, silently mouthing her own chant.

"Do you really think that barrier will stop Inuyasha?"

Kaede started as her sister's voice came from the other side of the tree, momentarily losing track of the chant. Her mind wanted to scream in panic—her sister, Inuyasha, why were they with the dark priestess, they must be prisoners, she had to do something—!

Her sister had been training her for over a year, since the first, faint signs of her own miko power had appeared. Kaede relied on that training, stopping the panicked flow thoughts by returning to the chant. She was invisible, she wasn't worth noting, she was smaller than a dust mote, less than a blade of grass, nothing to see, nothing to note. She was invisible…

* * *

"Of course it will, my dear Kikyo," came the amused answer. "You think I haven't been able to take the measure of him, by this time?" There was an unpleasant chuckle. "It's a very special barrier, you know. Someone with pure human blood can get through easily. But it will throw back anything with youkai blood."

"And the other barrier?'

"Oh, it's more than just a barrier," came the reply. "You'll see when the sun comes up."

Kikyo was almost certain that her sister was behind the tree. Her miko senses had started to return, but even when she was at full strength, she was not able to detect Kaede's yet-weak spiritual aura from more than a few paces away. But her blood-tie connection to her sister insisted that Kaede was nearby, awake, afraid and determined. Fortunately, one of the very first things she had taught Kaede, when the girl's miko powers began to develop, was to master a simple concealment spell. It hid her aura and her scent from most youkai, and would hopefully conceal her from a priestess as well.

But it would help if she could keep Tsubaki distracted.

"Why are you so sure you won't be interrupted before sunup?" she asked, though she was fairly certain she knew the answer. "The village does keep guards in the tower at night." She referred to the spindly, three-legged edifice that rose above the huts of the village, used to watch for approaching danger, whether human, nature, or youkai.

"They're asleep, of course," said Tsubaki, pulling a square of cloth out of one of her bags. Placing it on the ground, she then sat down on it, pulling one of the smaller bags towards her. "Surprising how much you can do with a little bit of youki and spiritual power combined. Moth youkai thought he was going to devour my life—was he ever surprised." Tsubaki chuckled darkly. "Left him alive in return for a supply of poison dust from his little flock." Pulling out a small packet, she opened it to reveal several rice balls. "If you beg, I might be willing to share."

"I'm not interested in your cooking, thank-you."

"Not mine, Kikyo-kun. A rather sweet, naïve tanuki cooks for me. Very good cook, too."

Tsubaki bit into a rice ball, turning her head to study the slumbering hanyo. Dropping her voice to a mutter, Kikyo said, trying to not move her lips, "I hope the food poisons your gut, Tsubaki-san." She watched intently, but saw no sign that the dark priestess had heard her. Taking a deep breath as quietly as she could, she whispered, "Kaede, don't try anything, until I say. Keep still, keep quiet. Be ready to cut the second rope from the top."

Kikyo was almost certain that she felt a start of surprise, and was knew that she could rely on the girl's strong streak of practicality to have her order obeyed. She would prefer that she could have ordered Kaede to retreat, but there was nowhere to retreat. And a high chance that she would be detected if she tried.

And the girl's presence might provide a thin chance to defeat Tsubaki. Out of the corner of her eye, Kikyo could see her bow, which Tsubaki had set against the tree, to mock her helplessness. She didn't need to see where the quiver was, with that one arrow, gleaming invisibly with the spiritual power she had pulled from Inuyasha's dying body, the last remnant of power from the vanished Shikon No Tama. One rope, severed at the right time. One shot, one arrow, one chance...

* * *

Seated very close to the ring of stakes and cord that held the spell barrier against the hanyo, Tsubaki was munching on her second rice ball when she noticed the hanyo starting to stir. He was sniffing, whining a little. The dark priestess smiled, wondering if the dog spell had affected his sleeping mind, or if the hanyo always acted like that when not fully awake. Digging back into her bag, she removed another small packet and opened it. Taking one of the pieces of dried fish, she tossed it across the barrier. It landed perhaps a foot's-length from the hanyo's head. Snuffling, he used the edge of one swollen hand to push it closer to his face. Tsubaki's smirk widened as she watched him move his head to sniff the length of the fish, before he opened his mouth and licked it. He took a tentative, tiny bite, nipping it off with just his incisors, and began to chew. 

He woke up.

Eyes snapping open, reflecting red and gold from her spell lights, the hanyo lunged to his hands and knees, before going back down to his elbows with a wince of pain. Swinging his head around, he spotted her, and snarled, ears flattening against his skull. She gave him a smug look, then glance over and up at the eastern sky. It was brightening, some long, thin tags of clouds beginning to glow red. There was still about enough time to boil water and make a pot of tea, before the sun rose, but she decided it was a good enough time to begin. Folding the packets back up, she returned the remaining food to the bag, tied it neatly, and then dusted her hands off. Standing up, pretending to ignore the hanyo, she stretched, and then checked the tree, noticing that Kikyo was watching her. Turning back to the hanyo, she noted his defensive posture, smirked, and pointed a finger at him.

"White dog."

The new collar pulsed. The hanyo jerked, eyes widening. He jerked again, and fell on his side.

And then, he began to howl.


	30. Chapter 30: Red Sky At Morn

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XXX: Red Sky At Morn**

It felt like no time had intervened. One moment, he was on his back, the fake Kikyo smiling at him as she tortured his body. The next, he was on his elbows and knees, the smell and taste of fish in his nose and on his tongue, with no idea of where he was or how he had gotten there. He snarled when he saw Tsubaki, from a reflexive flash of hate and fear. But his mind was so filled with confusion that he couldn't move. He panted, struggling to concentrate on his nose instead of the pain. He could smell the vague stench of a village close by, and individual humans. The three closest were familiar; two friendly and one a foe. The other scents were further away, surrounded by the scents of banked fires and dried wood and food and chickens and horses and so much else, too much of it noisome, but all of it familiar. He remembered. He'd been immersed in those smells, not that long ago. He'd been weak, in pain, and someone was caring for him. Two someones. The same someones loitering near an old tree that was half-dying, with exposed roots above water, both of their scents threaded with fear--

The confusion abruptly vanished. Kikyo! Kaede! Inuyasha's head came up, eyes searching through the red-lit dimness. He saw Kikyo, bound to the tree, her bow leaning against the trunk next to her. But where was Kaede? Why couldn't he see her? What was she doing out here?

_"White dog."_

His neck pulsed in pain, and he flinched, eyes widening, as something that felt massive and very cold squeezed his throat. A collar, like he'd been wearing for days, but not the same one. Heavier, wider, and filled with power--

That power flashed through his body like a bolt of agony. Inuyasha jerked, then crumpled onto his side, writhing as his bones and his skin burned. He screamed, but what came out of his mouth was transmuted into a howl. He felt the bones in his jaw lengthening, and his legs shortening. Other bones shifted and changed. His skin felt pricked by thousands of pins from the inside out. Dimly, he realized what was happening, but the pain was all he could process. Howling, he scrabbled again and again to get to his feet, but his body would not cooperate.

It stopped, some long time later. Sprawled on his side, eyes clenched shut, Inuyasha panted, fearing to move, less that agony came back. His hands and his face still hurt. So did his belly, and his right leg. He felt exhausted, ill, and hopeless. He didn't want to move.

A toe nudged him in the belly. "No more sleeping, puppy," came the hated voice of the dark priestess. "On your feet."

He whimpered, and then struggled to comply, rolling onto his belly before trying to push himself up onto all fours. It took two tries to get up onto just the one hind leg, and three times, to remain standing on his front legs, which wanted to collapse. Shivering, he continued to pant, his tongue lolling. "Better, little puppy," said Tsubaki with a cheerful voice. Something was set on the grass in front of him, and then he heard water pouring. His nostrils quivered, picking up the scent of water almost immediately under his nose. "Go ahead and drink, puppy," came the voice.

He didn't even bother to open his eyes, lowering his nose until it touched the water, then lifting it slightly and opening his mouth to lap at the water. He lapped eagerly, his body desperate for the moisture. His tongue rasped the bottom of the bowl, and he whined, wanting more. There was a laugh, and then more water poured into the container. Only as he paused to let water be poured a third time, did his mind finally take note of his body's activities. Drinking like a dog?! His eyes snapped open, and he realized that the bottom part of his vision seemed oddly obscured. He looked down, looking for the bowl of water. He saw the edge, and ducked his chin to get a better view. The ripples still, and by a red light, he saw his face stare back at him. The face of a white dog…

* * *

Yasuo sat up, abruptly awake. Something was wrong, but what? He heaved himself to his feet, then found himself walking out of the room without putting on either his haori or hakama. He started to turn to go back and get it, but found himself instead walking towards the village side of the house, where he usually left his sandals. Walking past the main firepit, he noticed that the fire was stilled banked, and felt a bit of surprise, as Satsuki had proven herself an early riser. He heard feet behind him, but before he could think to turn around and greet them, he found himself shoving his feet into his sandals and sliding the exterior door back with one hand, the old hoe in his other hand. Why had he picked that up, he wondered as he went down the steps. He kept it to do a bit of weeding around the herbs along the house his wife had planted, and to be able to help with the farming when the weather demanded that everyone participate. Of course, something was wrong, and a hoe wasn't a completely useless weapon, but what was going on that he should even need to think of a weapon? His role in an attack was to organize people, not to immediately be ready to fight.

He realized he was walking at a rapid clip out of the village towards the river meadow. He wasn't alone. More men than women were in front of him, but everyone had the appearance of having hastily arisen. Most of the men had not taken long enough to tie their hair up in their topknots. Women had their hair hanging down in loose braids or entirely freed, and none of them seemed to have put on the skirts over their yukatas. And everyone had something in their hand, whether hoe, rake, or just iron fire tongs.

No one was saying a word. The wrongness, Yasuo realized, was in the people, not some external threat. He knew his people, after having been headman for almost two decades. They could be silent enough, at need, but no emergency would have everyone heading in the same direction in absolute silence. Fire, flood, or raiders whether human or youkai: he knew his people, and knew this was not their normal behavior. It wasn't his, either. He tried to will himself to stop. And failed. And could not even feel the fear he was certain such an obvious lack of control should have been causing him.

The meadow came into view. The eastern sky was a sullen red through the streamers of thickening clouds, but it was light enough to see two dim figures in the middle of the meadow. One was dark, the other light. That, he noted before the people in front of him obscured his view. He found himself stepping over a low cord, and noticed that he did not feel puzzled by its presence in the middle of calf-high grass. Crossing the cord, he found himself almost inclined to stop, except that there were other people behind him. He kept walking, slowly now as the group of people about him came closer together.

"Good morning."

The words, spoken by a stranger well in front of him, seemed to snap something. Yasuo halted, and was hit with a sudden wave of emotions--bewilderment, fear, and anger. He blinked once, and realized that someone had put him--and apparently the entire village--under a coercion spell. Around him, gasps and voices arose, echoing his confusion and fear. He heard panic in some of the voices. That galvanized him to move past his own bewilderment.

"Everyone, be quiet!" he said loudly, not shouting, but pitching his voice to carry. The hubbub immediately began to quiet. Walking forward, he shoved the hoe into the first free hand he saw. A tap or two on shoulders alerted those in front to step aside to let him through. Passing the last person, he took three more steps, then halted, sweeping his gaze around the meadow. Almost directly in front of him was a circle of cord--some type of spell circle, he judged, from the folded knots of paper. Within it was what appeared to be a white beast of some sort, huddled against the ground. Behind that circle was a woman dressed in the dark robes a priestess of a temple that emphasized magic more than than other, more traditional temples did. And on the edge of the meadow, tied to the oldest of the trees, was Kikyo.

His blood chilled. Keeping his face calm, refusing to think about his thin, gray hair straggling about his shoulders, his beard-encrusted chin, or the exposure of his legs from below his mid-thigh length kimono, Yasuo took another step forward, met the gaze of the priestess for a long moment, and then bowed. "Miko-sama," he addressed her politely. "This one is Yasuo, headman of the village. It would please this one to be informed as to why the miko-sama chose to summon all of the villagers from their beds."

She smiled, her dark, loose hair dancing in the breeze. "The name that might have been mentioned before is Tsubaki. The dark priestess, Tsubaki."

There were several gasps behind him, but others shushed them. "That name was given, as one who kidnapped a severely-injured hanyo under the protection of the village, and who also harmed a child, by giving her false memories of that hanyo being killed and eaten by a youkai." Yasuo felt a fresh stab of horror as he realized what the white dog must be.

"Ah, yes, the hanyo," she replied, her eyes narrowing. "How curious, to discover a village willing to shelter and protect the something as monstrous as a half-breed. One wonders what else you harbor in your rickety little village."

"One that has the courage and compassion to risk its own life for others is not a monster," Yasuo replied. "The Inuyasha could have used the Shikon No Tama to preserve his own life, yet chose to care for other lives more than his own. This village owes the hanyo life-debt: we will not disregard our duty to him, merely because of his mixed blood."

The dark priestess laughed. "Such noble sentiments from a grubber in the dirt! Shall we test such nobility? Shall we see what you are willing to sacrifice, to protect such as this?"

She did nothing obvious, but the white beast howled and leapt up to all four feet, staggering as it struggled to find its balance. A head topped with two triangular ears swung in his direction, and golden eyes under tufts of black brows looked at him. Yasuo felt his stomach twist as he recognized those eyes. It was Inuyasha. A transformed Inuyasha.

He was not transformed into a dog, but rather a horrible combination of human and canine. White fur covered his head and most of his body, but faded to bare skin on his extremities. His hind limbs were dog-like until the toes, but his front limbs were human from the elbow down. He looked ungainly and awkward. He was also clearly injured, the right hind leg badly swollen from the thigh down, the left side of his face and his left shoulder streaked with scabbed cuts, and with still-raw wounds on stomach and back. There was no sign of the massive wound he had suffered in his fight with the demon for the Shikon No Tama, but his ribs were plainly visible through the rough, patchy fur. Yasuo found his hands clenching in pity and anger for the battered hanyo. He had been worried when Kikyo had introduced the hanyo to the children, though he had refused to order the miko to stop her efforts to befriend the half-human, choosing to believe that she knew what she was doing. His emotions had been whipsawed that day when the demon posing as Inuyasha had attacked and killed the villagers, and then when the true Inuyasha had not only managed to destroy the demon, but then had wrought a miracle. He had only really met the hanyo once, two days before his captivity, when he had dropped by the hut to thank the hanyo, and to tell him that he would be allowed the stay in the village as long as he wanted. The youngster had clearly been shocked speechless, though he had managed to stutter an almost inaudible 'thank-you' as Yasuo had started to leave.

The hanyo whimpered and looked away, ears lowered. Yasuo's jaw tightened in anger. The youngster didn't deserve this humiliation, but there was nothing he could do. He was only a headman. Against a dark priestess powerful enough to defeat Kikyo and take her prisoner, he and all the villagers were helpless. There was nothing they could do, to help the person who had saved all those lives—

"Inu-Inuyasha? Inuyasha!"

Yasuo whirled, to see Korana break free from the crowd and head directly for the hanyo. "Korana, stay back!" he shouted. Others shouted at the girl, but went unheeded. Her brother Kenichi lunged after her, but tripped and fell. Yasuo moved to intercept her flight, only to find his own foot jerking out from under him. He managed to catch himself with his hands, but Korana was past him and out of reach before he could even think of climbing to his feet. His head turned to watch her as she leapt over the cord and barreled into Inuyasha, knocking the hanyo over, his heart in his throat, less from what the hanyo would do, but for what the dark priestess might make him do. A lightning prayer went through his thoughts, begging the kami that the girl be unharmed, and the hanyo and the priestess freed. But he knew, even as he thought it, that the kami would be unable to answer his prayer. Less than a moon ago, the kami had granted one miracle. How could he even ask for a second?

Yet he couldn't help but beg for that hope. For that second gift…

* * *

Inuyasha looked away from the pity in the headman's eyes, shamed and despairing. What more was the witch-bitch going to do to him, before killing him? How had she managed to do this, to reduce him to a state where a human could look at him, not with fear, not with revulsion, not with hate, but with pity? _Pity! _ No! He wasn't meant to be crouched down like this, twisted and broken! He wasn't supposed to be terrified of a mere mortal woman! He wasn't supposed to be like this! He wanted—he wanted—

"Inuyasha!"

His head jerked around, and his eyes widened as he saw a small girl break away from the crowd and run straight towards him. He gasped, and recognized her scent. _Korana!_ Behind him, youki surged, and a thread of evil, gloating anticipation rose from the dark priestess. He saw the girl's brother trip and fall as he attempted to stop her. Inuyasha wanted to yell at her to stop, to go back, but all that came out of his mouth was a series of barks. He saw Yasuo fall, and stared helplessly as the girl leaped over the cord and ran against him.

He went down, his three-legged stance too uncertain to withstand her momentum, as she flung her arms around his neck. "Inuyasha! Inuyasha! You came back! Are you okay? Why do you look like a dog? They said someone stole you away and I cried and I'm so glad you're back!"

A whine left his throat as he struggled to right himself. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to knock you down! Are you all right?" He managed to roll back onto his belly, bracing himself with his off foreleg. Turning his head, ears rotated forwards, he met the girl's gaze. Wide dark eyes looked back at him, uncertainty starting to glimmer in their depths. "You—you are all right, aren't you? I-I didn't hurt you?"

He shook his head: that, he could do. He wanted to tell the girl to run, he wanted to tell her he was sorry, but that, he could not. Pain welled inside of him. He didn't want this innocent girl hurt. He didn't want any of the humans in the village hurt. But the woman behind him was going to do just that, and he was helpless to stop her. He couldn't protect them. Any of them.

"Can't you talk, Inuyasha?" asked Korana, looking sad.

He shook his head again, hesitated, and then licked her face before settling his jaw on her shoulder, closing his eyes tightly. "Oh, Inuyasha!" She hugged him around his neck, reaching up to scratch behind one ear. He shivered, waiting.

* * *

Kaede had her own ideas about what to do. Slowly, carefully, Kaede inched closer to the tree where Kikyo was bound. Reaching the trunk, she just as slowly, just as carefully, stood up. Reaching up with her knife, she began to slowly, carefully, saw through the rope, pausing every few strokes to wait and listen. When the rope was almost—but not quite—cut through, Kaede reached upward for the next one. She didn't know when or if the dark priestess would realize she was behind the tree, so she thought it would make sense to almost cut through as many ropes as she could, leaving just enough uncut to keep the ropes from falling.

She was back down on her knees, working on the lower ropes, when she heard the first commotion. Freezing, she listened hard. Realizing that it sounded like a lot of the villagers had come out, she bit her lip in concern. The dark priestess must have made them. Deciding that that meant whatever Tsubaki was planning must be getting ready to happen, Kaede re-applied her knife to the ropes. She had to make sure her sister had a chance to get free, whatever happened.

She froze a second time when she heard Korana. She wanted to peer around the tree, but didn't quite dare. But she barely kept herself from gasping when she heard the little girl say the word 'dog.' What had Tsubaki done to Inuyasha! Turned him into a dog?! How dare she!

"Such a cute scene, don't you think, Kikyo?" Kaede froze again, and silently repeated the spell chant to keep her invisible. "The dog and his little girl. Odd, though. I thought it was your little sister that really liked the hanyo. After all, wasn't she the one who was calling him 'older brother'?"

Kaede felt her face pale. Something whispered in her mind. The next moment, she lurched to her feet, and found herself impelled to start walking. She fought it, managing to go down to her knees and crawled, thinking she might find a way to make it appear she was coming from a different direction than the tree her sister was tied to. But, as she got her first glimpse of the ground beyond the tree, she realized that the hope was fruitless. The villagers were gathered on the opposite side of the meadow. There was no way she'd be able to hide herself in a trip to the other side of the meadow, and no way that she'd be able to finish it before Tsubaki increased the power of her controlling spell. Tsubaki would realize what she was up to—

Unless. Seeing that Tsubaki's back was to her, Kaede had an idea, and acted on it. Keeping low, she got her feet under her, turned and leapt back behind the tree. Jumping to the bank, she dropped, twisted around, and slid down the crumbling bank. Grabbing the tree roots, she found her place where she'd stayed before. Realizing that she was still holding her knife, she slid it back into her obi. Then she waited, gritting her teeth against the growing tension in her head. She would pretend she had been too afraid to move, she told herself. She'd never even reached the tree—

The urged doubled, spiking the tension into a stab of pain. With a yelp, Kaede deliberately let go of the roots. She fell into the water, making sure to splash loudly. Stumbling to her feet, she let the control spell take over, stumbling through the water.

A laugh overhead drew her attention, as the control spell let go. Tsubaki was standing on the edge of the bank, looking down at her. "So there you are," she said, not looking particularly pleased. "And what are you doing down there?"

Kaede remembered the fear she'd felt when she 'saw' Inuyasha being killed by the 'youkai,' and tried to make that fear show on her face. She could remember the horror, the pain and guilt, how she had cried and cried. Her eyes burned, and she let them, as she stared up at the dark priestess, and didn't move.

She saw Tsubaki's annoyance increase, then shift into a scornful smirk. "Let me guess," she said. "The spell dust that kept everyone asleep wore off early, and you saw my spell lights and decided you had to investigate. But you're only a little girl, so when you realized who it was, you froze in fear, didn't you?"

Kaede made no response, only shivering. Tsubaki snorted. "Stupid child," she said in a dismissive tone. She gestured with with her free hand. "Since you're too scared to even move…"

The girl squeaked as she found herself in midair. As she flew, she saw the entire scene laid out like a drawing—the gathered villagers inside a large circle, a little girl and large white dog-like being within a smaller circle. The dog being snapped its head up, and Kaede saw golden eyes, and knew that it had to be Inuyasha. But the next moment, she realized just how high up she was, and that she was starting to fall. She had fallen from a tree branch once, and broken her leg. True terror seized her as she realized how much farther she had to fall. Closing her eyes tightly, she told herself not to scream. The air blasted against her face with increasing strength. But, great kami, she didn't want to die! She didn't--!

Something slammed into her from below. Instinctively, she grabbed, and found her arms wrapping around something warm, soft and furry. Most of the wind was blocked, and what she could still feel was not as strong. But she was still falling, and she didn't dare open her eyes.

There was a thump, a yelp, and her ribs were painfully compressed as her legs continued their downward momentum. They stopped, and for a moment, she was poised, motionless, on top of something warm. Then that something collapsed, and it was her turn to yelp—more in surprise than in pain—as she hit the ground herself, one leg pinned. Her eyes flashed open, and she saw that her arms were wrapped around a white-furred neck. And perched on the end of that neck was a white-furred skull, surmounted by two large, triangular ears. "Inuyasha?" she whispered, letting go of the neck.

A long whine answered her. The body still between her legs twisted, then half-rose to release her. Pulling her legs back, Kaede pushed herself to a seated position as Inuyasha sank back down. "'Yasha?" she whispered. He turned his head to look at her. Kaede bit her lip to keep from crying. The eyes were still his—deep-gold irises, vertical pupils, thick, black lashes, staring at her from out of a dog's face. She reached for him, then hesitated, not sure how to touch him, or even if she should. "Thank-you," she whispered. He pushed his nose against the palm of her hand for a moment, before licking it once, and lowering his head to the ground between his forelimbs. Kaede glanced at his 'paw,' and winced inside as she saw the dark, swollen hand, blood oozing from blood-caked fingertips. Anger surged, and she wished fiercely that she could do something to help him, to protect him from that horrible Tsubaki! If only she weren't just a little girl!

* * *

Kikyo watched with her heart in her throat as Tsubaki's spell flung her sister high into the air. She wanted desperately to be able to cast a spell that would save her sister, but she didn't know one.

She gasped as Inuyasha leapt straight up into the air. Inuyasha's exhaustion and pain had been evident in every line of his transformed body. She remembered how she had earlier had to coax him into even trying to attack Tsubaki and escape, and the fear that had so terribly evident in his face and ears. Yet now, he soared upwards, slamming into Kaede with his back. Her sister wrapped her arms around his neck. They descended, perceptively slower than a human would have fallen, Inuyasha's legs spraddled and stiffened, his ears flat against his skull, eyes narrowed, and canine teeth showing in a silent snarl.

He landed hard on all four legs, yelped, shook for a moment, and then fell over, pinning her sister's leg. He quickly squirmed back onto his belly, and managed to push himself up enough with his one good hind leg, that Kaede could free herself. Then he collapsed, and Kikyo closed her eyes, feeling relief and frustration. Inuyasha had saved her sister, but he had clearly paid for that effort. If anyone was going to stop Tsubaki, it was going to have to be her.

But could she? Her head still ached violently, and she still felt ill. Even if Kaede had cut through the ropes (clever, disobedient sister, to not wait to work on them) sufficiently that she could get her arms free, she would have only have one chance. The powered arrow would help replace at least some of the strength she currently didn't have, but would it be enough? And when would be the time? She was going to have to wait for Tsubaki's attention to be fully engaged elsewhere, and then have to hope that she could break free, grab bow and arrow and fire before Tsubaki could react. Her chance was so slight—

No. Kikyo opened her eyes again, watching as Inuyasha gave her sister's hand a lick. Breathing deeply, she dismissed her doubts, and called the cool, detached calmness of her training back to her. This was a hunt, a fight, a battle. It did not matter if her body was bruised and battered, or her mind aching and injured. Tsubaki was the enemy, disregarding her humanity for the sake of power. The dark priestess was her foe, as deadly, as uncaring, as evil as any youkai she had faced. She had risked death many times to protect the jewel, or to protect her kind. The Shikon No Tama was vanished, but she was still a miko, and she still had her people to protect. And she would.

Whatever the cost…


	31. Chapter 31: Killing Spells

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XXXI: Killing Spells**

Tsubaki watched the dog and the girl, hiding her chagrin. She had put too much power into that spell to throw Kikyo's terrified sister into the inner circle, and had had to rapidly gather the power for a second spell, it not being her intention of directly harming the girl, no matter how much a nuisance she was. But she not expected the transformed hanyo to leap upwards in an obvious attempt to save the girl. She hadn't thought about his normal leaping ability when she created the barrier, and so it was only a fence, not a dome. With faint, grudging admiration, she had watched the apex of his jump perfectly coincide with the girl's falling body. The girl grabbed, and Tsubaki felt the flare of the hanyo's youki as he descended a bit more slowly than he should have.

He paid for his gallantry, of course, as three injured limbs slammed into the ground. He collapsed, barely managing to get his weight off the girl's pinned leg. His aura seemed to crumple in on itself as he lowered his head from his last effort to respond to the girl's thanks, leaving only a sense of utter exhaustion.

But his actions had reminded the villagers of what they felt they owed him, she saw, as she shifted her attention back to the villagers. The old headman was walking towards the inner circle, and the others, with some hesitation, were following. Stepping over the rope, he knelt by the hanyo, placing one hand on the white-clad shoulders. "Thank-you for saving Kaede, Inuyasha-dono. You are under our protection."

Tsubaki made herself laugh. "Fool of a headman. You really intend to try and protect a hanyo? A thing that will not hesitate to destroy your village, if you get in the way of what it wants?"

The old man stood up and moved to put himself between her and the hanyo. Showing more courage than she would have expected from a simple farmer, he met her eyes. "Please take your spells off Inuyasha, miko sama, and leave him and us in peace. You are not wanted here."

She smirked. "Oh, but what of my duty to protect poor simpletons such as yourself from monsters like that demon dog? Do you really think you're safe with a _hanyo _around?"

"Inuyasha will not harm us."

So naïve. So foolish. "You are a fool, headman," she said scornfully. Raising the half-quartz, half-obsidian knife, she felt the two powers spiraling about each other. Smiling thinly, looking past the knife to the stupid old man standing before her, she reached mentally for the dark collar about the hanyo's neck. _White dog. _

_Kill._

* * *

Kaede fell back as Inuyasha lunged to his feet, snarling. Startled, she stared at him. His lips were drawn back, revealing the fangs and jagged teeth of a dog. His ears were flattened, and his head was below his shoulders, giving her a clear view of the fur rising along his backbone. She also got a sense of something around his neck glowing, though there was nothing visible.

She rolled to her knees and hesitantly extended a hand. "Inuyasha. What's wrong?"

There was a short chuckle from outside the circle. "What's wrong, little girl, is that your tame hanyo is starting to show its real nature. Unless you soft-headed villagers start acting, he's going to kill everyone inside the small circle. And if he gets angry enough, he'll break through that circle and kill everyone standing around who thinks he's such a nice, harmless puppy. Except myself, of course. I know better than to trust a monster."

The transformed hanyo gave a strangled bark. Whipping his head from side to side, he backed away, snarling, using his broken hind leg as if he could not feel pain.

"Inuyasha?" Out of the corner of her eye, Kaede saw Korana start to walk towards the hanyo. Without thinking, she lashed out and grabbed the smaller girl's arm. The girl let out a yelp, and Inuyasha sprang forward, jaws opening. For a frozen instant, Kaede thought, horrified, that he was going to attack Korana. But he whipped his head aside at the last moment with a short howl, and managed to twist aside enough to avoid hitting the girls head on. Both of them tumbled to the ground. Kaede managed to pull Korana to her and muffle her next shriek with her hand over her mouth.

"Be still," she whispered in the girl's ear, as shouts from the villagers rose. "He's under a spell. He's fighting it. Help him. Don't move. Be still."

She felt the girl give a tiny whimper and a nod. Yasuo's voice rolled over her head, quiet, yet firm. "Everyone stand still and be quiet. He doesn't want to attack."

Tsubaki's laugh was a sneer. "You really think standing still is going to save you?" she asked. "Does standing still before a rabid wolf keep it from attacking?"

"Inuyasha is not a rabid wolf," Yasuo replied. "The only monster standing in this meadow is you."

There was a moment of silence. Still holding Korana, Kaede slowly moved her head. She spotted Inuyasha standing spraddle-legged, every muscle clearly tensed, and his eyes tightly closed, his jaws clenched shut, but lips still drawn back in the continuous snarl. The sense of an invisible collar of power was growing. Kaede tried to keep her own fear down, knowing Inuyasha would sense it. Inuyasha wouldn't hurt them, she told herself. He would fight off the spell. And her sister would get free and stop Tsubaki. She knew it. It had to be that way.

"Because I seek power, I am a monster? How ridiculous," scoffed Tsubaki. "A pity you can't see the real monster—I wonder how many people he's going to kill, because you told your villagers not to move?"

Kaede felt the invisible collar pulse. Inuyasha jerked, and then his eyes snapped open, flickering between gold and red. Despite herself, the girl felt a spike of fear. His head snapped around and pointed at her. He took one step forward, head lowering slightly.

Then another.

A third.

Inuyasha would stop himself, he would! She told herself. Her sister would stop Tsubaki, break the spell, release Inuyasha. Surely she would! Kikyo was just waiting for the right moment, she had to be! The ropes were cut through enough that she could break free, and Tsubaki had left the bow and arrows within reach and she just knew Kikyo would save everything, she would! She was Kikyo, she was strongest priestess in the whole wide world and she would never let anything happen to her little sister—!

* * *

The spells Tsubaki was using were obvious even to Kikyo's aching senses. So was the flare of rage in Inuyasha's aura. Realizing that she had to act now, Kikyo clenched her hands and pulled against the rope with all her strength. Wrists and arms howled with the effort, and then the last strands of rope snapped. The bow was snatched in one quick movement, and she bit back a grunt as she stretched against the remaining ropes to reach the tip of the glowing arrow. With no time to try and free herself sufficiently to take her normal stance, the archer aimed as best she could at the dark priestess. Tsubaki was close enough that she didn't need the range of a fully-drawn bow. Kikyo aimed for a death shot, refusing to acknowledge in her mind that she was aiming at a human being, knowing that Tsubaki's life—or most the village—might lie in that one shot. She drew as far as she could—

The bow shattered. Kikyo flinched as pieces of wood snapped backwards, several splinters striking her face, one barely missing her eyes. Laughing, Tsubaki glanced over her shoulder. "You didn't think I'd take precautions against you getting loose? A bow is such a fragile weapon, don't you think?"

Kikyo realized that she still had hold of the arrow, as the dark priestess turned back to the four inside the smaller spell circle. The aura around the arrow flickered, and her headache was abruptly eased. Her thoughts cleared. She sensed the increasing strength behind Tsubaki's spell, the rage imposed on Inuyasha, and felt her sister's increasing panic. Her mind cast about frantically, searching for anything she could do to prevent the murders Tsubaki clearly meant to force Inuyasha to commit. She had to stop her, but how? She had nothing that could work at this distance, she probably couldn't escape the ropes quickly enough to avoid being noticed and stopped by the dark priestess, and there were two barriers to get through—

Inuyasha had jumped above the level of the first barrier. Kikyo narrowed her eyes and focused on the second barrier of cord and papers, and saw that it, too, was a 'fence', not a dome. Grabbing the arrow with both hands, she closed her eyes, reciting the spell she had used only once since her training. She focused her thoughts on a certain face, not the snarling dog face threatening her sister, but the warm-eyed, white-framed face of the young man who had kissed her, who had promised to give up everything for her—

_Inuyasha! Jump! Come to me! Come to me, now!_

* * *

Inuyasha was fighting for his life and his sanity, and he knew he was losing. The collar about his neck was sending wave after wave of pure rage and desire to kill through his mind. His youkai blood was howling to feed on that fear less than a length from him, and it was taking every bit of his will to keep from leaping on that helpless, tender, and scared pair of bodies.

"Keep fighting, Inuyasha-dono. We know you do not want to harm us."

He distantly heard those words against the crackle of fire in his mind, vaguely sensing that the human male had moved to place himself in front of the girls. He wanted to open his mouth and yell at them to get away, he wanted to turn and fling himself at the source of his torment. But all he could do was fight to keep his legs from moving, from bending into a crouch. All he could do was to keep his front claws driven into the dirt, flexing his hands, trying to feel the pain that should be there, wanting desperately something to counteract the ever-growing rage. He did not want to kill! He refused to kill!

But the rage had already blinded him, shrouded the pain, was closing down his hearing and strangling his will. Rage, anger, hate! Kill! Kill everything, everyone, no one deserved pity, no one! But he mustn't—he couldn't—

_Inuyasha!_ Something made of ice and light slashed through the tightening stranglehold, trailing a familiar voice. _Jump! Come to me! Come to me, now!_

Kikyo! Inuyasha felt his body take a gasp of air, and could, if only in that moment, see through his eyes, and hear through his ears, and smell through his nose. He remembered his jump to save Kaede, and could sense the fence-like barrier around him. He could smell Kikyo, knew where she was, if there was anyone, anything that could stop the madness, it was her.

He snapped his claws free of the soil and leaped, his good hind leg driving him forward as well as up. He brushed the barrier with his bad leg, and yelped as pain flashed up that leg. The collar pulsed, and his senses fogged out again. He landed, tumbled, and staggered back to his feet. The rage tried to turn him back, but he gathered himself and managed a small jump in the direction he knew Kikyo was. He landed, and the growing power clawed at his mind, shredding his thoughts. He screamed, shuddered, set himself and jumped again. He barely could feel his feet enough to know when he landed. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see. He couldn't hear. He didn't care. He knew where he had to go. He had to get to Kikyo. He had to get to her. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.

* * *

_What?!_ Without warning, the dog half-demon leapt, not at the trapped man and children, but hurtling over their heads, skimming the barrier with no more than a yelp. Tsubaki whirled, her spell sending another pulse of gathered youki into the collar. The hanyo landed badly, rolled over, and staggered to his feet. Looking beyond him, Tsubaki saw Kikyo standing with both hands on the glowing arrow, her eyes closed. So she was trying to draw the hanyo to her, hoping to break the spells over him, was she? _No, you don't,_ she thought, raising the knife to hold it between both hands. She concentrated on the spells in the collar, sending more of the gathered youki into the spells. She heard the hanyo scream, but any smile was stillborn as she watched him take another staggering, wavering leap towards his destination. And another. His legs buckled on landing. _Turn around, white dog. Turn around._

He struggled back to his feet. What did it take to stop him? Tsubaki wondered, remembering his last attempt to escape. Why wouldn't he give up? Why wouldn't he stay broken?

Abruptly, Tsubaki changed her mind and released the rage spell. The hanyo plowed the ground with his nose, stumbled to his feet, stood stock still for about two heartbeats, then launched himself at a limping run directly towards Kikyo. Eyes narrowed, Tsubaki waited her moment. She had wanted Kikyo to watch while the hanyo slaughtered the village, but if launching him against the miko was the only way to shatter his mind, then so be it. She would have the hanyo's full power, and only his own rage had seemed to weaken the seal on that power. She would have that power, and nothing would stop her—

So intent was she on watching the running hanyo and preparing to recast the spell, she didn't notice the dark brown youkai diving down from the sky. She didn't hear the shout.

But she did see—far too late to do anything about them—the blazing sutras arrowing down from the sky, wrapping themselves around the hanyo. He howled and crashed to the ground, writhing as the shape spell on him shattered. Tsubaki flinched and mentally swore as the backlash slapped against her shields, and then stared as she saw the youkai descending towards the meadow. It was dark brown, looking somewhat like a furry, very short and fat worm, with bright green eyes, and black stripes circling its tail. She tensed, raising her knife as the youkai appeared to be descending in a straight line towards her, as if it intended to bowl her over. But a few lengths away and half her height above the ground, it came to an abrupt halt. A loud pop smacked the air, and the youkai disappeared. Two figures dropped to the grass—two recognizable figures. One was a certain, bald-headed monk, his right hand filled with a set of sutras. But it was the other that Tsubaki stared at, in utter shock.

"Yukuuku! What are you doing here!"


	32. Chapter 32: What Path Courage

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XXXII: What Path Courage**

Tsubaki stared at the tanuki, stunned. "Yukuuku! What are you doing here!?"

A baritone chuckle answered her, as the tanuki cringed. "Don't be angry at her, miko-dono. I told her that I had urgent business with you. Since you had so kindly left a protective barrier about me, it was not difficult to persuade her to help me find you."

"M-mistress?" stuttered the tanuki, her eyes wide and her ears back. "Pl-please d-don't be angry? H-h-he said you would w-want to see him as quickly as possible, and that it was a matter of life and death?"

Tsubaki glared at the trembling youkai for a long moment, sorely tempted to punish the tanuki for her naïvity—or was it stupidity? She did not need yet another complication in her plans to destroy the hanyo, and punish the fools who had dared trust him. Even if the monk was no real threat to her, as the fight the night before had proven. Yukuuku should not be interfering in her affairs!

And yet—Tsubaki gave a long sigh. She didn't really want to hurt the tanuki. She wasn't sure why—it wasn't solely because Yukuuku had helped her after Kikyo had turned back her attack. Nor was it simply because Yukuuku was an excellent cook. It was only … she was—fond—of the tanuki.

A human, a dark miko, fond of a youkai.

Idiot.

Nevertheless…

She sighed again. "Yukuuku, go home."

The small, dark ears swiveled forward. "Mistress?"

"Go home!" snapped Tsubaki. "I don't want you here!"

"But, but mistress—"

Tsubaki glared at her. "Just do what I say!" The tanuki flinched. The dark priestess found her gaze softening. "Yukuuku-chan, please. Just—go."

"But, I-I—" the tanuki stared at her pleadingly for a long moment, then wilted. "Yes, mistress." She backed away, reaching into her yukata and removing a leaf. Holding it above her head, she transformed with a pop. Hovering above the ground, she stared at Tsubaki for a long moment, and then turned and fled.

Tsubaki watched her go, and then dropped her gaze to the monk. He was standing in a defensive posture, spell-charged papers fluttering in his right hand, ready to throw them at any moment. "You," she said in a disgusted tone.

He gave her a smile. "My dear Tsubaki-sama, how could I ignore your plans to further darken your soul?" He made a gesture with his empty hand. "Come. Shall we not put our weapons down, and speak together? You are not entirely lost to evil—did you not refuse to kill me when I was helpless? Did you not even go so far, as to place a barrier around me, to protect me? And you refused to harm the tanuki, even though her gullibility allowed me to be in time to stop your creation from killing the miko Kikyo."

Tsubaki gave him a rather nonplussed stare, then snorted. "Do you ever speak without flattery, monk? Yukuuku may be stupid, but she is useful to me. As for you—perhaps I was only making sure that you would be available to—play with later."

"As you can see," he responded, "there's no need to wait." He lowered his hand a trifle. "What did you have in mind, oh loveliest of dark priestesses? May I entertain the hope that I will find cause to praise not only your beauty, but your new-found compassion?"

She snorted again. "Praise me all you want, monk. Just do it from beyond the grave."

* * *

Miyatsu recognized her intent, and got his first attack off before she did. The ofudas flashed blue as they left his hand, but they were not aimed at the woman. Instead, three of the charms wrapped themselves around the cord holding the spell circle around the man and two children. The cord burst into flame for a moment, then crumpled into ash. The remainder flew past Tsubaki, heading towards the outer ring. Already committed to her attack, she had no chance to deflect the ofudas.

He staggered back and step and went to one knee as her attack slammed into his shield. Nevertheless, he managed a smile as he sensed the outer ring barrier go down. Tsubaki swore. "Curse you, houshi! You don't really think you can defeat me!"

"I never say 'no' to a beautiful woman," he replied with a chuckle. Then he grimaced, as her next attack nearly collapsed his shields. Concentrating, he kept his left hand in the prayer position, using it as his focus for the barrier, as his right hand groped for a fresh set of ofudas. He had no chance of defeating Tsubaki in a straight-up battle. Her youki-enhanced power was greater than his, even before last night's encounter. His only chance was going to be subterfuge—if he had a chance to put his idea into play.

Which seemed unlikely.

* * *

The pain of the breaking shape-shift spell was worse than the spell being cast, but much shorter in duration. Dazed, Inuyasha lay on the ground, panting, his shoulder, back and hip stinging. He didn't really want to move.

"Inuyasha."

His name, whispered, caused his ears to twitch. _Kikyo_. Remembering that he had been trying to get to her, the hanyo rolled over onto his stomach, and then pushed himself onto hands and knees with a groan. One part of his mind noticed the movement of a youkai, but it was in the sky and away from him, so he ignored it. Lifting one hand, he looked at it, noticing that the damaged claws had straightened and lengthened. A touch on his face confirmed that he no longer had the muzzle of a dog. He started to sigh in relief, then felt his tail wag. A moment later, he realized the collar was still around his neck as well, heavy with untapped spells.

Looking up, he considered the barrier between him and Kikyo. It felt like an invisible fence, several times his height. Normally, he would have skipped over it with a sneer. But at the moment, he didn't know if he had the strength to make that jump. He felt so tired—

Tsubaki's voice, raised in anger, caused him to tense, his breath catching in his throat with a sudden surge of fear. He cringed, and then started as the thin cord spat sparks, smoke, flame, and then fell apart. With it, fell the barrier. He stared at the smoldering remains, eyes wide and astonished for a long moment, before the whisper came to his ears.

"Inuyasha. Come here."

He looked at Kikyo. She was still half-bound to the tree, her scent laced with pain and exhaustion, her hair straggling out of the hair ribbon, her face pale and drawn. But her dark eyes were steady as she beckoned to him with a free hand, the other holding the glowing arrow to her side.

With a three-limbed takeoff and a single bound, he was at the tree, catching and steadying himself on the trunk. Catching his balance, he slashed through the remaining ropes, and then placed his hand back against the tree, turning his head to look back at the meadow. "Miyatsu can't stand up to her in a straight fight," murmured Kikyo. "We need to do something."

He could see that the man was already down on one knee, hiding behind his barrier. Yasuo was holding Korana with one arm, and had his other hand holding Kaede's wrist as he backed away from the duel. The rest of the villagers looked and smelled like frightened rabbits—too afraid to move. "Wh-what do you think we can do?" he asked, his voice stumbling a little as he realized his own body reeked of fear. Shame rose, but it wasn't enough to cover up the growing pit of terror in his stomach, at the thought of trying to challenge that dark priestess yet again. He had tried so many times! She had tortured him, raped him, broken him, then forced him into a monster's form and nearly made him kill two little girls who had been kind to him. He had tried to get his courage back, he tried to attack the night before, for Kikyo, and he had failed, again. He couldn't fight her again, he couldn't!

"'Yasha…" The hand touched his fingers, not his face, but he nevertheless flinched, snatching his hand away, whipping his head back to look at her. A moment later, he looked away, shamed by expression on her face. He didn't want to be pitied! He didn't want someone feeling sorry for him! And what she must think of him, so weak, so afraid—

"Go."

The whispered word made him look back at Kikyo, startled. She met his gaze, unshed tears glimmering on her lashes. "It's all right," she said. "You've done more than enough for the village. And it's really more my fight than yours, anyway—I think Tsubaki and I would have been foes, even without the Shikon No Tama. Just go. And be safe."

Inuyasha stared at Kikyo, the meaning of her words only slowly coming through the whirl of fear and confusion. "You—you want me, to run—away?"

She reached out, slowly, and this time touched his cheek with her fingertips. "I saw what you went through last night," she whispered. "I saw what she was doing, trying to shatter your soul, so that not even death would bring you peace. I can't ask you to try again." She stroked his cheek, then let her hand fall. "You've done enough, Inuyasha. Be free. Go."

He wanted to escape. He wanted to run away from the woman who had broken his body and his courage, and had shattered his pride. He wanted to run away and hide, and _forget—_

"But, but what about—you?" he asked, knowing what the answer would be, no matter how much one part of him wished that they could just both escape, and leave behind the past and just be together.

She smiled wanly. "I know I wanted to stop being a miko, but I haven't. I can't. It's my responsibility to protect these people. Even though it kills me."

_Protect._ Inuyasha forced his head to turn back around. The monk was still surrounded by his barrier. The headman had joined the other villages, but Kaede had pulled away and was standing in front of them, hands clenched, glaring at the battle. He remembered hearing how Kaede had lost her eye, stubbornly trying to fight the youkai swarm with her bow and arrows, even though her aim was poor and her physical and miko powers weak. He had protected her once, killing the centipede youkai that threatened her.

_Older brother._

Someone who wanted him for a brother.

And little hands fearlessly petting his ears.

And the trust and love and serenity in a dying miko's eyes, as they exchanged glances before facing the final battle with the merge-demon Naraku.

"I-I can't," he whispered, even as he felt sweat rolling down his forehead. "I-I—I won't."

"'Yasha?"

He looked back at her. "I-won't—leave you." Starting to pant, he made himself turn around and set his back to the tree. "What—do you—want me to do?"

Inuyasha heard her startled intake of breath. "I," she hesitated. "We need to distract her, give Miyatsu a chance to take her by surprise." She hesitated, then added under her breath, "I wish she hadn't broken my bow."

A piece of knowledge slid into his mind, that his sense of smell had picked up. "Kaede's bow and arrows are behind the tree."

"What? Get them—no, wait! Take me to them—grab me and pretend to run away."

Inuyasha blinked, and realized that was a very easy suggestion, compared to what he had feared. Pivoting on his good foot, he swept her up in his arms, and then leapt past the tree. Another leap past some brush, and then he turned around. Crouching, he limped back to the tree and stood Kikyo against the trunk, then reached down for the bow and arrows. He gave them to her, and was opening his mouth to speak when a silent thunderclap seemed to ripple through the air, and a male voice cried out in shock and pain, abruptly cut off.

They looked at each other, knowing what the sounds meant. Miyatsu had fallen. They would have no chance of taking Tsubaki by surprise while she was concentrating on her battle with him. Inuyasha met Kikyo's eyes, and saw pain and dismay, and even her own fear. Oddly, it did not increase his own. If anything, it decreased it. He was still sweating heavily with his terror, but now that he had made a decision, a small space in his mind was clear enough to think. It was enough, especially since there was only really one thing he could do.

He looked down at his hands, which had healed more than he would have expected, but not enough to use his usual attack. His leg still ached abominably, though he could stand on it. But he had to not think about that. _Protect._ He had to concentrate on what was important.

Protect Kikyo. Protect Kaede. Protect Korana. He couldn't let them die. He _wouldn't_ let them die. He was stronger, faster; he had to protect them. He would do anything, to protect them.

He slashed his right claws through his left forearm, ignoring Kikyo's gasp, and then repeated the gesture with his left set of claws. He usually relied on just the one set of blood claws, but he needed every weapon possible. He let his claws soak in the blood, growling, trying to urge his youkai blood to rise. Fight. Whatever it took. He was going to fight.

Cries rose from beyond the tree. Beside him, Kikyo gasped, but Inuyasha's ears barely twitched. He concentrated on the blood soaking his claws and filling his hands, and he growled, willing every last measure of determination into that blood. Protect, protect, _protect—!_

He jumped past the tree, and began to run.

* * *

Kaede had pulled away from Yasuo's grasp, but once free, there was nothing she could do but watch the battle, hands curled in frustrated helplessness. If only she were older, if only she had her full miko powers! If only she wasn't just a kid!

Behind her, someone swore. "Look! They're escaping!" She looked over to the tree her sister was tied to, and saw that she and Inuyasha had disappeared. Voices started to murmur, then went silent as the dark priestess laughed.

"Fools!" She launched a new attack, hard and fast. The monk cried out as his barrier was shattered and he was blown backwards. He fell to the grass, and did not move. Smirking, she turned to look at the villagers. "No one is escaping from me," she stated.

Kaede's mind went into overdrive. She knew her sister, and was pretty sure she knew the hanyo, too. They wouldn't be trying to escape. They'd be planning an attack. But their chances, low already, were even less with the monk no longer fighting. With nobody to draw the attention of the dark priestess, they'd have no chance.

She whirled, jumped, and grabbed the nearest staff, which happened to actually be a spear. Kaede whirled and again and began to race forward, pointing the spear tip at Tsubaki, both hands on the shaft somehow managing to keep it level, even if ordinarily it would be too heavy. "Come on!" she yelled. "It's our only chance! Fight!"

Cries rose behind her, and feet pounded the ground. She saw Tsubaki's expression change to shock, then scorn. "Fools! You really think you can defeat me?!" She swept her hand holding the knife across her body. Kaede found herself flying through the air once again, the spear ripped out of her hands, her breath slammed out of her body as if she had been physically hit. She had just a moment to hope she had somehow helped, before she crashed to the ground, consciousness disappearing in a flare of black pain.

* * *

Inuyasha saw Kaede and the others flying away from their fruitless attack as he started his charge. He exploded forward, the flash of rage concentrating his mind and lending speed to his feet. Ears flat, eyes narrowed, he ran.

He saw Tsubaki sense his presence and start to turn. He lashed out with his left, then his right hand, yelling. "Hijinkessou!" His blood transformed into red, razor-edged, curving blades, and shot forward. They hissed against her barrier, eroding it. Inuyasha leapt, eyes fixed on the spot where most of the claws had landed, calling as much youki into his claws as his could, aiming for that slightly weakened spot, not letting himself think of failure. His claws flared with power. They reached the barrier, and instead of bouncing, sank through.

"_No!"_ As he came down, she whipped the two-sided, power-soaked blade up, and sank it into his belly, ripping upward. _"White Dog Die!" _

There was pain, and pain. This was too terrible to even scream. Power and pain raked through him and tore him apart, and then more power pulsed, and sent a surge of energy towards the very core of his being. A small part of him, as he fell into darkness, realized that he had at least made the dark priestess kill him. A tiny part of him felt satisfied.

Another part screamed in rage and denial. No! He didn't want to die!

Something shattered.

His mind went dark.


	33. Chapter 33: Youkai!

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XXXIII: Youkai! **

"Get off me!" not quite screaming, Tsubaki shoved and kicked the body that had knocked her to the ground. It flopped over onto its back, and the dark priestess scrambled to her feet, her heart hammering, her breath coming in short pants. She looked around wildly, spinning in a circle, looking for foes, the bloodied knife still in her hand. She saw villagers, mostly scattered around the meadow like so many pieces of downed branches after a storm. She saw the monk lying on his back, groaning a little, a handful of ofudas scattered in the grass where he had been kneeling. She saw Kikyo coming into view around the tree she'd been tied to, leaning against it for support with one hand, the other hand holding what looked like a bow and a quiver of arrows. Snarling, Tsubaki snapped out a word and pointed the bloody knife at the miko. Kikyo slammed against the tree, then slid to the ground.

Tsubaki completed her circle and glared at the sprawled, unmoving body. She was shaking. How had he managed to get that close to her again!? How had his claws managed to penetrate her shield? She hadn't intended to kill the hanyo yet, though she had taken precautions after the close call the night before. But—curse him, anyway!

She raised the knife to clasp it between both hands, to invoke the spell to absorb the youki drifting around the corpse. As she did, she saw that the blade, her hand, and her sleeve were coated with blood. She looked down at herself, and mentally cursed again as she realized that her robes were soaked with blood. His blood. She could feel moisture against her skin, and realized that the blood had soaked through to her inner garments. Her skin crawled at the thought. Even in death, the hanyo kept annoying her—

Tsubaki forced her thoughts back to the business at hand. Quickly, she invoked the absorption spell. Watching the youki start to gather around her knife, she frowned again. She was positive the seal had shattered with the death spell. So why wasn't there more youki dissipating from the body? The hanyo had proven to be more powerful than expected, and with taiyoukai blood, there should have been more power released when the seal was broken. So, where was it?

The back of her mind prickled. Tsubaki tensed, before realizing it was the strongest of the youkai she'd made her bargain with, and one of the earliest. It was usually silent in her mind, content to share her senses and share with her its power. Now, it wanted out.

_Why?_ she asked.

_Drink its blood. Eat its soul._

Tsubaki blinked, and realized that the hanyo's soul had not yet left its body. She thought of the youkai's request for a moment, deciding it would be a very good idea. There were powerful spells capable of bringing the recently dead back to life. She had no desire to have that happen to the hanyo. She hadn't gotten all that she wanted from him, but she had absolutely no desire to have someone revive him, and set him to seeking revenge.

She let the illusion drop, and willed the gateway open. Her eye went blind with a flash of light. When it recovered, she found herself facing the twin-tailed, three-eyed, vaguely wolf-like youkai. It grinned at her with all of its sharp teeth. _Hadn't you better check on your other enemies?_ it conveyed, lowering its head to sniff the hanyo. A tongue reached out and took a long lick along the deep slash up the hanyo's torso. _Delicious. _

The dark priestess turned away, not wanting to admit to herself that she felt repulsed by the youkai's enjoyment. Deciding to follow the youkai's imminently sensible advice, she looked at the monk. He had managed to force himself to a seated position, but his face was drawn with pain. A quick glance towards the tree revealed that Kikyo was more or less seated upright at the base of the tree, but her head was bowed, and there was no sign if she was even conscious. Tsubaki returned her attention to the monk. "Still interested in trying to woo me, houshi?" she asked lightly, with a smirk.

* * *

His defeat, at least, was not as thorough as the night before. With trembling arms, Miyatsu shoved himself to a seated position. He raised his head just in time to see the youkai emerge from the dark priestess' eye. His gut twisted in horror and revulsion. He had assumed that the woman had mastered spells to control youkai and to absorb their power into objects. Instead, she had clearly made a bargain with a youkai to obtain her power. And there was generally only one type of bargain a youkai was willing to make.

He didn't answer her immediately, looking beyond her to the limp form of what must be Kikyo's hanyo. "Are you so lost to your own humanity that you will let that youkai eat his body?" he asked finally. "That hanyo has human blood; given what he has done for this village, he deserves a better ending than that." He could not hide the disgust on his face.

She laughed. "Such concern for a hanyo you were quite willing to risk purifying with your ofudas a bit ago, houshi," she said. "Should you not be worried about the fate of your own body? The power I am gaining—"

There was a pulse, a beat, of pure energy.

Tsubaki stopped in mid-phrase, looking startled. She started to turn, her knife glowing red from the youki it was absorbing. Already looking in that direction, Miyatsu saw what happened next. Another pulse of youki jolted the air. The dark priestess dropped the knife with a cry of pain, as the youkai started to jerk its head away from the hanyo's body. An arm lay limply on the grass one moment, and then with incredible speed, lashed out. The youkai did not even have time to scream as its head shattered into little pieces under the impact of five golden arcs of eldritch claws, leaving its body to stagger and collapse. Before it could hit the ground, its killer was on its feet, staring fixedly at the woman.

Its aura was glowing as red as its eyes.

Youkai.

* * *

Tsubaki stared at the revived hanyo in shock. "I killed you!"

Furry white ears twitched among the thick thatch of almost visibly growing silver hair as he tilted his head slightly. Jagged streaks of blue ran down his cheekbones. The mouth stretched into a smirk, long fangs jutting past the lower lip. "I don't feel dead," he said in a raspy, guttural voice. Cracking his knuckles, he took a step forward. "You failed, miko."

His aura was almost overwhelming, and his eyes fastened on her were not human. Tsubaki fought off a wave of terror, realizing that her collar was still on his neck. "White dog, sit!"

He staggered, going to one knee, eyes widening in shock. Tsubaki took a step back, muttering a quick charm to retrieve her knife. She nearly dropped it again as the heat seared her palm, but grimly held on. The transformed hanyo was growling, both knees on the ground as he struggled to bring his hands up to his neck. Gritting her teeth against the pain, knowing she'd have only one chance, Tsubaki lunged forward, intending to bury the knife in the hanyo's heart.

She never had a chance. The youkai snarled, and then the youki pulsed. A flash of light blinded her as something slammed up her arm, numbing it. The next moment, she was choking, pulled up onto her toes by something grabbing her robes and twisting them. Vision returned, and red youkai eyes stared down into hers from less than two hands away. "Let me go!" she shrilled, fighting another surge of panic. "Don't touch me!" She raised her arm in an instinctive gesture, and froze as she saw that her hand was gone.

She knew, then. Realized with a distant thought that the sheer power of the unleashed youkai blood had shattered the collar and her knife. A whimper strangled in her throat as she found her gaze reclaimed by those dreadful, demonic eyes. Hanyo-Inuyasha's golden eyes had always reflected his human blood and his human heart, no matter their shape and color. There was nothing of humanity in those blood-red orbs. No pity. No compassion. No mercy. Not even hate.

He grinned at her before releasing his grip and shoving her away. She staggered, off balance, her eyes catching a glimpse of claws flashing as a spread hand rose. Her mind went blank with despair, leaving only a single thought.

_Kuroshin, why didn't I listen—_

* * *

No person watching would ever forget that morning, that scene, for the rest of their lives. They saw the transformed Inuyasha kill the dark priestess, slashing her body into pieces with a single, terrible blow. Some gagged, a few going to their hands and knees. Those holding or touching children snatched them close in an instinctive effort to protect their innocent eyes. Most simply froze, stunned.

And, regrettably, some few panicked. They screamed, turning to flee back to the illusory safety of their huts.

He heard them, of course. He whirled, stared at their fleeing bodies, and sprang, a low, guttural laugh issuing out of his throat.

Those who recognized what was happening shouted then, in denial, in a fruitless effort to get the panicked villagers to stop, or in desperate hope that the maddened hanyo would hear them and respond. Miyatsu lunged to his feet, his hand darting for the last of his ofudas. But his knees gave out and he collapsed, the ofudas falling from his fingertips. Yasuo turned to watch after his one useless cry, crushing Korana to his chest that she would not be able to see.

And Kikyo found the glowing arrow to one hand, and Kaede's small bow in the other. She could see the aura, which held no hint of humanity; could feel the ravening desire to kill that had consumed him, sense it through the not-yet dissipated spell she had used to speak directly to his mind. She did not understand what had happened to transform Inuyasha into the pitiless monster. But she knew he had to be stopped. Before he destroyed innocent lives.

Arrow clacked against bow. "_Inuyasha!" _she shouted with both mind and voice, and with all of her heart and soul. _"Inuyasha, come here!"_

He whirled in midair and landed backwards, sliding a little in the grass, ending less than a length from the nearest villager, who screamed and threw herself to the ground, covering her head with her arms. His ears twitched and he started to turn towards her, making a little chuckle of greedy anticipation. _"Inuyasha!"_ His head snapped back, red eyes staring at her. _"I'm the one you want to kill! Come here and kill me!"_

The youkai shifted his weight from one foot to the other, indecisive. _"Come here! Now!"_

He leapt, straight towards her.

Kaede's bow was small, fitted to the girl's height and her strength. Kikyo was on the ground, unable to rise without assistance, and with a bow that could not draw back two-thirds of the sacred arrow's length. But she had long since lost count of the number of youkai she had killed with her weapons. And if her heart screamed or wept, it did not show in her face or in her body. He ran straight towards her at a speed his hanyo form could not match, a wide, feral grin on his face, his hands arched to claw. Kikyo watched him come, the bow swinging up, calling on that one special spell and imbuing the arrow with what was left of her miko strength. The arrow didn't really need more power, but what was already within it was unfocused. She gave it meaning, shaped its form. The blood-maddened Inuyasha closed, far closer than she would normally have allowed a youkai to approach.

She released.

He grunted and staggered as the arrow slammed through his chest and through his heart. Shock flashed across his face, wiping out the grin, as he took another step forward, and fell to his knees. He looked down at himself, and tried to raise a hand to the arrow with an arm that trembled. As if it had grown to heavy to lift, the arm fell back. He raised his head—so slowly—as his chest heaved once in a strangled gasp for breath. Wide and shocked, the red eyes stared at her. "You. Ki—kyo—"

His eyes glazed over. He swayed, and then slowly toppled over onto his side, his breath leaving him. His aura collapsed, and his body went limp, motionless, to all appearances, dead, the arrow centered in his heart, though not a drop of blood could be seen.

And for a moment, nothing in the meadow stirred.


	34. Chapter 34: Tsubaki's Curse

**Tsubaki's Revenge, Part XXXIV: Tsubaki's Curse**

Yasuo heard the thunk of the arrow slamming into flesh before he could turn to watch the hanyo's maddened charge towards the miko. He saw the hanyo crumple to the ground, staring in stunned silence with the rest of the villagers as the reality of Kikyo's act sank in.

Korana broke the spell, wriggling within his hold. "Where's Inuyasha?" she wailed. "I want Inuyasha!"

The aging headman stared down at his armful, heart wrung with pain. "He can't come to you, Korana," he said, seeing no way to cushion the blow. "The bad woman killed him." And that was, he thought, the truth—the red-eyed monster that had risen from what had looked like a death-blow had not been Inuyasha.

"No!" Tears flooded black eyes as she stared up at him. "No!"

He pulled her back close to his chest, turning around to face his people. They were starting to react, some staring off into the meadow and whispering to each other, most of them looking at him. He saw Satsuki and Korana's mother moving forward. He moved to meet them.

"Satsuki," he said, as he handed the crying girl to his mother, "Take the women and children back to the village. Set up the central firepit and start some food cooking. Try to keep everyone busy."

She nodded, eyes dark with understanding. "The bodies?"

"We'll burn the woman's body here, I think," he said. "Or close by. Hopefully, Kikyo-sama or the monk can make sure that one's soul is banished. Inuyasha..." he sighed, remembering how young the hanyo had looked, and how surprised he had seemed, when he had spoken to the hanyo to give him his thanks. "I'll speak with Kikyo. I think the least we can do, is give him the same rites we'd give one of our own."

"I'll speak with the women, and see what can be spared to clothe him. He deserves that."

Yasuo nodded, relieved and a bit chagrined that he hadn't thought of that point. "Thank-you, Satsuki," he murmured, touching her shoulder. Turning to the rest of the villagers, he began to rap out orders. Four of the fastest young men, he sent to fetch bows and arrows, worried lest the dead priestess had had other youkai around, waiting to attack. Others were sent to fetch supplies that might be needed to tend the unconscious monk, and a cart to load up the youkai's remnants for dumping down the well. One group was set to keep a wary eye on the shattered body of the dark priestess and the rapidly decaying one of her youkai companion, while most of the rest were set to patrolling the outskirts of the meadow, looking for anything untoward. Finally, then, trailed by the mostly older men he had not assigned duties, Yasuo made his way towards Kikyo and the fallen hanyo.

He could not but examine the naked body as he came closer. Once again, the hanyo, at first glance, seemed to be little more than a young human male with a few oddities, a bit on the lanky side, built more for speed than brute strength. His white hair was a tousled puff barely a hand-width in length, currently half-obscuring the triangular ears, while not hiding at all the noticeable lack of human-type ears at his jaw line. But his face, visible in profile, was not human; the slightly open eyes blood-red, the long fangs jutting out of the mouth and over the lower lip, and the jagged line across his cheekbone. The hanyo's claws were easily thrice the length Yasuo had seen before his captivity.

The arrow, he noted in passing, had been a perfect heart shot. The tip of the arrow just barely broke the skin in the back, but there was no evidence of bleeding. That, if anything, was more discomfiting than the red eyes and lengthy claws. How could an arrow go through a body and not draw blood? It wasn't as if the hanyo couldn't bleed—he'd seen evidence enough after the fight with the merge-demon. The arrow that had stopped the hanyo was a sacred arrow, it was true. And yet...

The headman pulled his gaze away from the dead body and turned his attention to Kikyo. She was still sitting under the tree, her hands lying limply on her thighs, her face white and still. She did not stir as he moved closer, her eyes fixed on the hanyo. Shuddering inside at the thought of how terrible it must have been for her to kill someone she loved, Yasuo went to his knees and touched her shoulder. Slowly, she looked up, her dark eyes unreadable. He hesitated, then gripped her other shoulder as well. "I'm sorry for his death. You have all of our gratitude, for what you did."

Her eyes closed. For a moment, he thought she would break into tears and accept his implied offer of an embrace. She had, after all, just killed the man she loved. It must have torn her apart inside. She must need, want to cry—how could even a man not cry in such conditions?

But her eyes opened, tearless, unreadable. Her gaze returned to the hanyo. Her lips parted, and then, she said, "Take me to the houshi."

* * *

The sharp, cleansing scent cutting through a distinct stench came to his notice first. He felt himself waking, realized that he felt exhausted and possessed of a truly awful headache, and groaned in protest. Fingertips gently touched his temple, and a woman's voice spoke softly. "Miyatsu-sama, I am sorry to waken you, but I need your help." 

His eyes snapped open. He recognized, the pale, still face floating above him, with the dark eyes deeply shadowed by exhaustion. "Kikyo?" he murmured. Fragments of memory came sliding back. He'd been trying to rescue her, hadn't he? And another. But there'd been that other woman, so beautiful, and so horribly, sadly twisted. And there'd been that flash of multiple, golden arcs, trailing blood and gore—

Miyatsu sat abruptly, not even noticing that he swore. "What was that thing?" he demanded, looking around for the mutilated bodies that much surely exist. "How many did it kill? Did you managed to stop it? Where did it go to?"

"Inuyasha killed no one save Tsubaki." The very slight emphasis on the name drew his attention back to Kikyo. Her eyes were opaque, but her voice held the slightest edge of anger. "I sealed him."

"Sealed him?" Miyatsu stared at her, shocked. "You didn't destroy him? You saw what he did to that woman—he tore her apart with one slash of his claws! He could have destroyed the entire village!"

Something sparked deep in her eyes as they narrowed slightly. "I took care of him, houshi-sama," she said. "Now, drink this."

Miyatsu looked down to see a shallow bowl. "What is that?"

"A potion," she said, less than helpfully. "It will ease your headache, and give you more strength—for a while."

He returned his gaze to her face, frowning. Answering his unspoken query, she continued, "I need your help to make sure Tsubaki's spirit is banished. The villagers have been preparing a pyre, but burning her body will not be enough."

Recalling what he'd seen of the dark priestess, Miyatsu realized that Kikyo was correct: that was not one that would accept that it must travel on to the other world. Suppressing his gut reaction to the thought of that killer not being dead, Miyatsu reached for the bowl, and with her hand steadying it, drained its contents in one breath. He tried not to shudder or gag, but quickly accepted a water tube and drained that. A young man helped him to his feet, and provided support as he looked around. Locating the blood and gore-soaked remnants of what had been a beautiful woman, Miyatsu closed his eyes with a grimace, then concentrated on his spiritual senses. He felt the messengers from the underworld crawling over the corpse, and then knew that Kikyo had been right to be concerned. The spirit was resisting the messengers' pull, radiating with rage and bitterness and pain. It was splotched with darkness and ragged where demonic energies had leached into it, clearly far from its natural goal of nirvana. Opening his eyes, Miyatsu looked around for Kikyo, and saw her being carried between two men.

"You have all of my aid, miko-sama," he said. "What did you have in mind?"

* * *

The crack of thunder snatched her awake. Sitting bolt upright, Kaede looked around wildly, trying to figure out where she was. It wasn't the hut she shared with her sister. And what was she doing inside, hadn't she been outside just a moment ago, running towards someone, running with something in her hands— 

Tsubaki! "No!" Scenes scattershot through her mind—the ropes binding her sister to the tree, the white dog with tortured eyes, the scorn in the dark priestess' face as the girl charged towards her with nothing more than a too-heavy spear.

The _whomp_ of heavy rain abruptly slamming into the roof caused her to jump. Voices yelped and cursed in the middle distance. Kaede blinked and looked around the dimly lit room, her initial fear fading. Her sister and Inuyasha must have defeated the dark priestess, she realized. The men surely wouldn't have sounded annoyed, rather than afraid, if Tsubaki had won. And why else would she have been picked up and brought to what she now recognized as the headman's house, unless Tsubaki had been dealt with? She couldn't imagine a reason the dark priestess would order the villagers to take care of a mere girl.

Feet trod the steps to the porch. Kaede turned her head in that direction, wincing a little as the back of her skull started to throb in pain. She heard the door to the main room slide open; moments later, the door to hers slid back, and two men, thoroughly drenched, sidled through, carrying in their paired arms an unconscious and equally drenched Kikyo.

"Big sister!" exclaimed Kaede with a gasp. She tried to scramble to her feet, but lost balance as her head swam, crumpling back to floor. "Ow!" She clenched her fists against her temples. "Big sister—how is she? What's wrong with her? Please tell me she'll be okay!"

"She's naught but exhausted, little one," said a tiny, wizened woman, slipping in behind the two men. "Be weak as a nestling for a few days, I don't doubt, but recover she will." She pulled off her straw hat. "Now, ye two," she said, "lay the miko-sama—nay, you great idiots, not on the futon, next to it! Do ye really think to let her sleep in wet clothes?" Kaede watched as the two men gingerly knelt and lowered her sister to the floor next to the second futon. The old woman chased them out verbally, then turned her gaze to the row of baskets along one wall as the door was slid shut.

"Now, girl, which basket will have spare robes to dress your sister in—never mind," she added, as she pulled the lid off the first basket. Pulling out the top layer, she held the patched kimono up. "Ah, to be expected," she said with a tone of mild disgust. "After the last days, not even the headman could be expected to have much more than rags." Turning her head, she gave Kaede a gimlet stare. "What are you waiting for, girl? Not going to help get your sister out of those wet clothes?"

Kaede flushed. "I—" Drawing a blank on what to say, she rolled onto her hands and knees, and started to crawl towards her sister. The old woman pulled a second, even more patched kimono from the basket, then knelt by Kikyo's side. "That lump on your head still bothering you, girl?" she noted, more than questioned, as she started to unfasten the miko's wet clothes. "Once someone gets a fire started, I'll brew some willowbark tea for that head of yours," the village herbalist and midwife continued, her voice gentling a trifle. "Take this and start drying her hair."

Getting as comfortable as she could, Kaede carefully reached around her sister's head and untied the hair ribbon. Helping the old woman pull off the top layers of clothing, she then pulled the hair free as Kikyo was resettled to the floor. Finger-combing the hair into a reasonably unsnarled tail, above Kikyo's head, she wrapped the cloth around it.

"Obaa-san," she asked, as she started to wring the length of hair and cloth, "what happened? After I ran towards the miko—I don't remember what happened next."

Amaya snorted. "And as if that wasn't one of the stupidest acts I've ever seen, little one. Though I guess it might have helped a bit. That hanyo boy reappeared and attacked while she was throwing you all back. She was ready for him though—she sliced him straight up the gut with that glowing knife of hers. Didn't even have time to cry out, he did."

Kaede gasped, blanching, her stomach twisting. "Inuyasha's dead?!" she wailed. "He can't be!"

Black eyes flicked a glance at her. "Not through talking, girl," she said. "Be silent and listen." Biting her lip, Kaede turned her attention back to the hair she was trying to dry, eyes burning.

"The boy looked dead, I'll grant ye that," the old woman continued. "But that's when things went—odd. A big white youkai—looking rather wolf-life, if you didn't count the tails or the eyes—came out of that dark miko's face. It started sniffing around the hanyo's body: looked like it was planning on eating him." Kaede made a small but audible gulp. "The monk tried to dissuade her from letting that youkai eat the boy, but he obviously wasn't going to get anywhere with that nasty witch." She paused to concentrate on untying the red hakama.

"What happened next?" asked Kaede, too anxious to wait. "Obaa-chan, please—that youkai, it didn't, it couldn't—"

The old woman pulled the clothing down and returned to her rough toweling. "No, it didn't. The hanyo came back to life, and killed it with a single blow. Except, it wasn't the boy."

"Wasn't the boy?" echoed Kaede. "What do you mean?"

"I mean it looked more like a youkai, than anything human. Its eyes were red, you could see the fangs, and its claws looked as long as its fingers. Now, I'm no miko, to have the sight, but I could almost feel the power rolling off it. And that gut-wound she gave him? Gone. The dark priestess tried to subdue that thing with her spells, and it tore her into pieces just as easily as it did the youkai."

Tsubaki was dead? Remembering how she had been torturing Inuyasha, Kaede felt a sense of satisfaction. "Good," she muttered. "She deserved it."

Amaya gave her a sharp look. "Don't go around being pleased about death, girl. Life's too scant and hard as is, to go around cheering destruction. If it hadn't been for your sister, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean, girl," said the old woman, continuing her work, "is that there wasn't anything human in that creature that killed the dark priestess. It enjoyed killing her—you could see it in its face. When some of the villagers panicked and ran, it started after them. Laughing. If your sister hadn't lured it into attacking her, and if she hadn't shot it, that monster would have killed everyone."

"No! Inuyasha would never do a thing like that!"

Amaya stopped her work and gave her an impatient glare. "Aren't you listening to me, girl? That wasn't your half-tame hanyo that lets little girls pet his ears—that was a full-out monster that would have torn you to shreds and laughed about it. It's just fortunate for all of us that Kikyo had a second bow to hand, and managed to put an arrow straight through that monster's heart."

Kaede looked down at her hands, fighting back tears. "Inuyasha can't be dead," she whispered. "He can't be…"

The old woman sighed. "Actually, he isn't, according to Kikyo," she said, after a long moment. "Your sister apparently put him under some kind of spell—'sealed him', is how she described it. Wouldn't let us burn his body when we burned the woman's. Don't think the monk agreed with her, but he collapsed before she did. Had us dress him in those red clothes of his—the dark miko had them with her supplies, for some reason—and then had him carried to her hut. Said we weren't to touch him, and put up a barrier to make sure of that. That's when she collapsed, and Yasuo-dono had the men carry her back here."

The herbalist lapsed into silence, and Kaede did the same, though her aching head was whirling with questions. Silently, they pulled Kikyo onto the futon and covered her. Picking up the wet clothes, and ordering Kaede to lie back down and try to sleep, the herbalist left the room. Hesitating, Kaede pulled the cover and block she had been using onto the futon, then curled up on her side next to her sister. She closed her eyes, but sleep did not want to come. The words of the old woman haunted her. Inuyasha, a monster? Inuyasha, sealed by her sister? She remembered her lesson on the sealing spell, that it could be removed by the caster. Surely, Kikyo planned to remove the spell. But when? And if Inuyasha had turned in to a monster, how was she going to turn him back? What if—what if Kikyo couldn't turn him back? Did that mean Inuyasha would never be allowed to wake up? That he'd never be allowed to live, to be free?

No! It couldn't happen! Her big sister would never allow that to happen! She'd find a way to turn Inuyasha back! She would.

But how? Kaede tried to remember if anything like such a change had ever come up in her lessons. She couldn't think of anything. Of course, her sister was much older and wiser than herself. She would surely know something that could subdue the 'monster' and bring back the real Inuyasha. There had to be something. The kami would surely not let Inuyasha stay sealed! It wouldn't be fair--! Not to him or her sister! There had to be a way—

She blinked, as a memory drifted across her mind. A night when something had woken her up…

* * *

Kikyo smiled at her sister: an open, loving smile, as Kaede put the rosary in her hands. Miyatsu firmly suppressed a surge of envy, of wanting to have that smile turned on him. "I still think you are wrong, Kikyo-sama," he said stiffly. "That is a youkai you sealed with your arrow. There was no humanity in the creature I watched kill Tsubaki. You've admitted yourself, that if you hadn't sealed him, he would probably have slaughtered everyone in the village." 

Her smile vanished as she turned to face him. Dark, expressionless eyes met his. "I know what I am doing, houshi-sama," she replied coolly. "I have meditated in the shrine and asked for the kamis' wisdom. I have strengthened the subduing spell in the necklace, and placed a spell of purification into my knife. I will return Inuyasha to what he was, and if I fail that, I will purify him."

"Tsubaki thought she could kill him," he pointed out crossly, for not the first time.

"She wanted to steal his youki. I do not."

"And if you are wrong? If you fail?"

There was no glimmer of emotion in her pale face. "Then your barrier will hold him long enough, for your ofuda to destroy him."

Miyatsu tried to hide his scowl. They had had the same argument repeatedly over the past five days, since they had woken up, two days after the hanyo had turned youkai. The miko had refused to be swayed by his arguments. He had toyed with the thought of speaking with the villagers and trying to rouse them against her plan. But he had, reluctantly, decided against it. He was her senior in age and in experience. He was a man, and she was but a woman. But, she was someone he did not want as a foe, and not entirely because he could see her beauty. An effort to turn people against her might easily backfire, and he was going to need to depend on the villagers' good graces for supplies, when he was ready to travel back to his temple. Furthermore, her power was quite likely a match for his, and there was a chance that she might well be correct, and able to save the hanyo.

Though he doubted it.

With a long sigh, he shook his head and turned away. Kikyo was already mounted on the lead horse of the pair. He let his gaze linger for a long moment on the occupant of the litter slung between the two horses. The arrow jutting from the hanyo's chest blazed as brightly to his inner sight as the fire-rat robes did to his outer sight in the early morning sun. The red eyes were still just barely open; the mouth yet frozen in the beginning of a snarl, the oversized fangs exposed. Miyatsu let his eyes drift to the long claws tipping each finger, and hid a shudder at the memory of what they had done to both youkai and human. Turning away, he touched the set of ofuda hidden in his robes, infused with the deadliest spells he could create. He had brought down his share of powerful youkai, but the power he had sensed from the transformed hanyo was more than a match for any of them. How a hanyo could manage that, he had no idea, but the thought of facing him made him uneasy. And not just because fighting him would mean he had watched the monster destroy Kikyo.

* * *

Kikyo accepted Miyatsu's assistance, ignoring the pain in her broken leg as she knelt facing Inuyasha. At her insistence, the hanyo was propped up against Goshinbuko. The one point she and the monk had agreed on from the beginning, that their work should take place away from the village. Her first thought had been to use the upper meadow, where she had first talked with Inuyasha, and where the merge-demon Naraku had fatally wounded her in the guise of Inuyasha. But, in her meditations and in her dreams, the massive Tree of Ages kept reappearing. That had puzzled her a little, even concerned her, knowing that Inuyasha had been 'betrayed' by the fake 'Kikyo' under its branches. But, as she took a deep breath, concentrating on dismissing the pain from her awareness, she felt a sense of peace seeping into her. She glanced up at the branches, still bearing a few flowers from its blooming. Something inside her relaxed a trifle, as if something was assuring her, that her plan would work. 

"This … tree …" Lowering her gaze, she saw Miyatsu touch the bark, his face a study in bewilderment. "I feel a power about this tree. It's not youkai, nor purely spirit—what is it?"

"The Tree of Ages," she answered. "Legends say it 'remembers' everything that has ever happened, or ever will happen, under its branches. That if you knew how, by touching the tree, you could see what it sees: past, present, future." He hastily pulled his hand away; Kikyo held back a smile of amusement. "If I went searching for Inuyasha, this was where I often found him." Her amusement faded. "From something he said once, I think he even sleeps in the trees. Because it isn't safe, for him, on the ground."

The dark, storm-blue eyes met hers for a long moment. And then he looked away with a sigh. "My promise was to help you free him," he said.

"To help free him from Tsubaki, which you did," she responded. "Your promise is already fulfilled, houshi-sama. Your help today—you have all of my thanks, no matter what happens. Miyatsu."

He met her gaze again, his face still and unreadable. "I will erect the barrier."

She looked towards the ground as he turned away. Slowly, she unfolded the packet of cloth before her knees. The circlet of beads she placed to her left hand, the knife to her right. Closing her eyes, she breathed slowly, letting her thoughts concentrate on Inuyasha—the Inuyasha she had fallen in love with, not the red-eyed youkai she had sealed. She remembered his strong arms catching her as she tripped and would have fallen, and that first shy, hesitant kiss. She remembered his pained, fearful expression as he pulled her into his arms a second time, moments after she had tried to kill him. She remembered him falling asleep on her shoulder, in wordless trust that she would protect him. She remembered him refusing to run away, even when she had told him to go. She remembered that stark courage behind that refusal, the desperate refusal to give into his heart-breaking fear. How could she answer that courage with anything less than the willingness to risk her own life, to free him of whatever had caused his transformation?

"Miko-sama." The voice came from behind her. "The barrier is up. I am ready."

She opened her eyes. "Thank-you, houshi-sama." Gathering the strand of sutra beads in the fingers of her left hand, Kikyo leaned forward, to grasp the arrow just in front of its fletching. The power of the sealing spell thrummed against her skin as she took hold. Willing the spell to break, she began to pull…

* * *

The woman had challenged him to kill her. He had laughed and run at her, anticipating the feel of fragile human flesh parting beneath his claws. Something had struck him, and he had suddenly been unable to move. Puzzlement had filled him, and a tiny flash of relief (which he did not understand) as the world ground to a halt— 

And abruptly began again.

Instinct sent him bolting up to his feet and leaping away as the stench of the woman who had killed him filled his nose. He whirled, staring at the miko kneeling on the ground, an arrow beside her, a knife in her hand. He snarled, half in anger, half in contempt, as vague memories of another miko and another knife flickered through his brain. "You think that little knife can kill me, miko?" he jeered.

She met his gaze without any indication of fear. A slight sense of puzzlement at her lack of fear might have drifted through the youkai mind, but it was smothered in blissful anticipation. Smirking, he slowly cracked his knuckles. It would be easy to avoid that little knife. It would be easy to kill the woman. And he wanted to do it. He wanted blood. He wanted to kill. He wanted to feel more of that bliss—

"_Be still."_

* * *

Inuyasha found himself face down on the ground, his nose buried in loam, his mouth tasting of dirt, his head filled with a fading, wordless howl. Startled and afraid, he tried to move, and failed. Fear exploded, as memories flashed through his awareness of other, recent times when he could not move. Panicking, he began to struggle mindlessly. The paralysis lifted, and he thrashed to his feet, off balance and stumbling. He fell against something that burned. He bounced away from that, stumbled to his hands and knees, scrambled up, tried to jump, and slammed into the burning wall again. The terror vaulted still higher as he once again scrambled to his feet, tried to run, and hit something that burned him and threw him back. Crying out, consumed with terror, he lunged to his feet, and tried again to run. And again. 

"Be still!"

Something grabbed the back of his neck and slammed him face-first into the ground. Half-stunned and dazed, Inuyasha went limp, too out of breath to even whimper. After some unknown length of time, his nose registered a change in smells. A familiar set of smells. As his lungs began to work again, he sniffed deeply. "Ki-kyo…"

Someone sighed above, a long exhalation. "Inuyasha," said Kikyo's voice. "You're back."

Something slid out from in front of his nose. Fingers touched his ear. Inuyasha flinched, then jerked backwards, pushing himself into his familiar seated squat. Eyes wide with the fear still flooding him, he stared at Kikyo. She met his gaze, slowly sinking back onto her knees from a four-point position. There was a look of relief on her face. His Kikyo? He sniffed, smelling the mingled complexity that the puppet couldn't match. His Kikyo. But what was she doing with that knife in her hand? That knife that screamed of miko power? And what was the picture in his head, hazed with red, of her pointing an arrow at him? She'd pointed a lot of arrows at him, but that had been moons ago, why did his mind insist it had just happened? And, and, why was there that memory, that feeling of something sharp and burning slamming into his chest, of everything fading to black?

"Inuyasha?" Her voice was soft, questioning.

"What are you doing to me?" he blurted, starting to shake as more confusing fragments of memory filled his mind. "What's that knife for? Why do I keep running into a wall? Why did you grab my neck and throw me to the ground? And why do I – why do I remember you – you – you shot me!" His voice was rising. "I—I remember! I was running towards you and you shot me!"

"Inuyasha, please, listen to me." Letting the knife drop to the ground, she leaned forward. "I don't know what you remember. Do you remember the meadow? Remember attacking Tsubaki, after Kaede led the villagers in an attack? You failed; she gutted you with that magic knife of hers; you fell. I thought you were dead."

He jerked as spasm of memory slammed through him. For a split second, he seemed to feel the terrible agony of his opened belly. A strangled whine came out his throat, as he remembered. He remembered the power reaching for his center even as he fell into darkness, the last flickers of thought, of satisfaction, and an angry, furious denial. The darkness had reached to surround him—

And then everything turned red.

"Something happened to you, Inuyasha." Panting, he forced his attention back to the miko. "You—transformed. You stood up—and it wasn't—you. It was youkai. Completely youkai—I couldn't sense any human in your aura at all. That youkai killed Tsubaki with a single blow. And it laughed."

Inuyasha felt something within him give a jolt. Something in the back of his mind pulsed in red fire. Red fire. He had fallen in it, the darkness overwhelmed as fire answered his last flicker of rage. He remembered the fire—a laughing, overwhelming force of desire—and something more—roaring through him, swallowing him. It had smothered him, soaked through every part of him. He had felt—pleasure. Bliss. Only bliss. Until he had heard her voice, and then seen her, pointing a glowing, sacred arrow at his heart. But he didn't remember killing Tsubaki—how could he not remember killing Tsubaki?

"I don't—remember," he whispered, staring at the ground, at his claws sinking into the ground. "Don't. Remember. You. Shot me."

"Some of the villagers panicked when your youkai self killed Tsubaki," he heard her say. "They ran, and that attracted its attention. It went after them—it was going to kill them."

_Kill?_ Villagers? He tried to imagine doing it, wanting to do it, and failed. "No. I wouldn't."

"It wasn't you, Inuyasha. When I used the mind-call spell to draw the youkai to me, I felt it. Nothing but a desire to kill. I challenged it to come kill me, and when it did—I used a sealing spell on the arrow. It worked, but your body was still transformed. I had a rosary with a subjection spell on it; I worked to make it stronger, strong enough—I hoped—to undo the transformation. We brought you out to Goshinboku, Miyatsu erected a barrier, in case things went wrong. I broke the sealing spell, put the rosary on you and invoked the spell, and it worked. You're back."

'Back.' Inuyasha closed his eyes, panting, shivering. Words, phrases, echoed in his mind. 'Transformed.' 'Youkai'. 'Mindless'. "I—was youkai," he whispered, his throat tightening.

"That's what it felt like, looked like," she told him. "Your aura changed. Your body—changed. Your eyes—they were red, with blue pupils. You had jagged, blue streaks down your cheekbones. You claws and fangs lengthened. And you healed—by the time the youkai ran towards me, there wasn't even a scar on his stomach."

"Killer youkai."

A pause, this time. "Yes."

"No!" With a scream of denial, he pulled his claws free, then slammed his fists into the ground as one of his oldest dreams bent and broke. "No!" He whispered the denial this time, before gritting his teeth against the hot tears that wanted to come. How long had he dreamed of turning youkai, of believing that finding a way to gain the full-blooded power of his father would be the solution to all his problems? Yes, he had decided to give up the dream, to become human for Kikyo's sake. But it wasn't—it didn't mean—! He'd always 'known,' just 'known', that when he found a way to turn youkai, he would be like Sesshomaru—a better Sesshomaru, who didn't disdain everything and everyone with less power than him. He'd be a youkai that even Sesshomaru would acknowledge as his equal.

But this? He'd turned into a monster, a youkai filled with nothing but blood-lust, a desire to kill? A thing that would have slaughtered the villagers, and even Kikyo? No, no, no!

Yet he couldn't deny the truth in her voice, in her scent. And he could almost remember, a feeling of bliss, a fire-red emotion that left room for nothing else, and when her face had appeared in his eyesight, the desire for blood. Her blood. He had wanted to rip his claws through her, tear her apart, lap her blood off his claws, and laugh.

He was a monster.

A hand slid across his shoulder. "Inuyasha—"

He reacted without thinking, one hand lashing out even as he lurched backwards. He slammed into the barrier, bounced forward onto hands and knees, then flung himself to a half-upright position as a cries smote his ears and blood-scent filled his nose. A sense of horror raking through him, he looked around with staring eyes, which settled on Kikyo, who was holding her arm. Blood leaked out between her fingers.

"Kikyo!" Roared a man's voice. "Get down!" Inuyasha snapped his head around, and saw a monk, standing just beyond the glow that marked the barrier, one hand filled with paper strips that seemed almost to smoke with the powerful spells they contained. Black eyes stared straight at him, and something in Inuyasha both quailed in fear and screamed in rage. The monk was chanting, the papers glowing, and the hanyo knew what the monk intended. This was no average monk who wandered the countryside, exorcising minor youkai on occasion, whose ofuda might burn his skin for a few days. This one was powerful. He had already trapped him inside the barrier, there was no escape from the death promised in those small slips of paper.

The red fire in the back of his mind screamed defiant rage. He didn't want to die, didn't want to be killed at the hands of a mere human monk who only saw him as a monster.

But the fire, at least in that moment, could not fight despair.

He _was_ a monster.

He had hurt his beloved.

He had transformed into a mindless killing beast.

She had brought him back from that state, but how long would that last? When he could feel the fire at the back of his mind, at the edge of his blood, waiting for another chance? The next time she might not be able to stop him. She might not be able to save his soul. He would kill her and never know.

He lowered his head, eyelids closing as two heated tears slid down his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry…" The barrier shifted around him, and he felt the energies gathering about the monk. He felt the fire burning hotter, and told it, 'no.' He would not transform again. The monster he could become would die with him. Never again. Never again—

"Miyatsu, no!" Something slammed into him, sending Inuyasha onto his back. "He didn't mean to hurt me—it was an accident!" Hands dug through the short strands of hair on his temples. "Inuyasha! Inuyasha, look at me! Look at me!"

He opened his eyes, to stare up into the beautiful face of the woman he loved. "You didn't mean to hurt me," she repeated, looking down at him with a fierce concern in her eyes. "Did you?"

He wanted to touch her face with the back of his fingers. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let go. But all he could do was whisper a faint 'no.'

She nodded. "I shouldn't have touched you without warning—after everything Tsubaki must have put you through…" One hand released his hair, and slowly, gently, wiped the tear track from one cheek. "I don't know what Tsubaki did to you, to make you transform like that. But the rosary turned you back. And we'll find a way to keep you from transforming again. I'm sure of that."

"Rosary?"

"On your neck." Her hand traced down to his neck, and he felt the beads against his skin, faintly tingling with power. She looked away, cheeks pinking ever so slightly. "I made the rosary, back when you said you were going to give me a gift. I—I didn't trust you—I was afraid it was a trick. But when you gave me that shell, that had been your mother's … I knew I'd been so wrong about you." Her eyes moved back to meet his. "I'm sorry I had to use it, though I'm not sorry it worked." She returned her fingers to his cheek. "I promise you, I'll never use the rosary, except to stop your transformation. And I'll take it off, when we find the answer. I promise. Beloved."

He slid a hand between them in time to keep her from kissing him. Looking away from her saddened eyes, he shifted position and brought them both to a seated position. Avoiding her eyes, he took her bleeding arm and examined it. "It's nothing," she murmured. But it wasn't nothing. Two claws had ripped through her skin down her the length of her forearm. Both cuts were bleeding heavily. Setting the arm down in her lap, he pulled up the outer sleeve of his firerat robe, and used claws and teeth to rip strips from the off-white, inner kimono. As gently as he knew how, he wrapped the strips around her bleeding arm. Tying the strips off, he positioned her arm so that it was supported by her sash, her hand and wrist inside the outer flap of her kimono. Still not looking at her, he gathered her in his arms, and slowly stood up.

She wrapped her good arm around his neck, pressing her face against his chest. Inuyasha fought not to shudder at the touch, at the taunting memories of pain and humiliation the simple contact brought. For a long moment, he stood there, holding her, his inner self crying in despair.

He wanted to stay with her. Wanted to believe that they could find an answer.

But he knew better.

He couldn't risk transforming again. Not near her. Not near the villagers, who had dared to offer him even a bit of trust and friendship. He couldn't risk letting the monster in him getting out. Not anywhere near them.

He didn't deserve what they had offered, anyway. He was only a hanyo, a hanyo with a monster inside him.

"Ask the houshi to lower the barrier," he finally made himself say.

"Inuyasha?" He didn't try to answer her unspoken query. "Miyatsu," he heard her call out, "please lower the barrier."

"Kikyo …" the man huffed a sigh. "You're sure it's safe?"

"Yes," she replied, with an edge in her voice. "I trust Inuyasha."

Another sigh, and the barrier came down. Turning a bit, Inuyasha walked directly towards the monk. Raising his eyes, he met the man's wary gaze. He came to a stop directly in front of the man, so close that Kikyo could easily have touched him. "Take her," Inuyasha said.

The black eyes narrowed in suspicion, fingers tightening on the deadly ofuda. "This is a trick."

Inuyasha met his gaze. "She can't walk," he said simply.

"Inuyasha, what--?"

Both men ignored the question, staring at each other. Finally, the monk sighed and nodded, tucking the papers back inside his clothing.

Kikyo protested as the shift was made. "Inuyasha, what are you doing? You know I—"

He stopped her with a clawed finger against her lips, then finally managed to look back up and meet her gaze. "I'm sorry," he whispered, resisting with all of his might the urge to touch his lips to hers, fighting the want, the need to stay with her. He couldn't. He didn't dare. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

Then, before he could change his mind, he spun and bolted away.

* * *

Kikyo stared in shock as Inuyasha ran. Why? Why was he running away now? She'd rescued him, brought him back from the monstrous state, promised to help him find a more permanent answer. Why was he running away?! 

"Do you want me to track him down?" asked Miyatsu. "It would take time, but his aura – either one – would be easy enough to follow."

She stared up at him. "And do what?" she demanded. "Bind him and drag him back? Kill him?"

His expression became grim. "He's not safe, Kikyo. That's why he fled. He knows he's not safe, he doesn't want to harm you or the villagers."

"But he is safe!" she denied. "You saw—the rosary subdued him, changed him back!"

"And if he transformed while you were asleep, or unconscious?" he countered. Kikyo gasped a little, feeling her face pale. Miyatsu's face changed as well, becoming thoughtful. "There may be another reason, as well," he said quietly. She blinked at him. "He's been controlled by spells, tortured, by that dark priestess. We don't know what all she did to him. But, even though he's free of her … he's not free. Not of the rosary. Not of your simple whim—"

"I'd never use the rosary against him," she snapped, indignant. "I promised him!"

"I know. But we're all just human, Kikyo. You could say the words by accident, or you could forget your promise in a moment of anger. You might even use it, thinking to protect him from danger outside of himself. Do you think he wants that?"

She stared at him a moment longer, then turned her head away, fighting tears. "No," she whispered. "But there wasn't a choice."

"No," he agreed with a sigh. He held her in silence, then sighed. "We might was well go back to the village," he told her. "There's nothing more we can do now."

Back to the village. Her heart wrenched. Back to the eyes that would be watching her, to the questions. To the place where she was the miko, the woman who had put an arrow through the heart of one she had tended and cared for and tried to rescue. The place with thin walls and few secrets. And her heart was breaking.

"Let me down, please," she whispered.

"Kikyo?"

"I—I just want to meditate under the tree," she lied, keeping her face turned away, fighting the tears. "I—please go back to the village and send Kaede." Kaede was her sister, her family. Kaede would understand, would never tell. "Please—just do it? I—need time alone."

A heavy sigh answered her. "I'll leave the horses, and set a ward," he replied reluctantly. "Be back before sundown, or I'll bring a party."

She didn't answer him, placing one cheek against the bark of the tree as soon as he set her down. Her hand joined her contact with the ancient tree as she heard Miyatsu set wards, as he set her bow and quiver beside her. She waited, clinging to the tree, as she waited for Miyatsu's steps to fade away.

She let the miko's mask shatter then, her tears falling as they had never done before. _Inuyasha, please come back!_ Her beloved was gone, too afraid to stay. She had tried to rescue him from Tsubaki's hands, and she had not succeeded.

Tsubaki was dead.

But her evil, her curse, was not. She had tortured and broken her beloved's soul, and only the kami knew if that soul would ever mend.

It might not have been the revenge Tsubaki had intended.

But it probably pleased her, if she knew.

Kikyo cried.

The End


	35. Chapter 35: Afterword

**Author's Notes:**

I feel that I must apologize for taking so dreadfully long in finishing the last chapter. I knew from the beginning where this story was going to end, but I didn't know it was going to take quite so long, or have some of the turns. (Neither Kuroshin no Yukuukuu existed at the start.) Regrettably, between feeling less than healthy most of the spring, plus preparing to move and then moving, plus a full-time job, a mayhaps just a touch of writers' block, I did take this long to finish.

The story doesn't end here, of course. The next story in the arc will be "Blood Unbound," which will see the appearance of a certain, full-blooded inu-youkai. I also want to get back to the story I started last summer about Inuyasha's father, "The Flea's Bargain." I want to get this latter story plotted, at least, as some of the decisions I make for that plot may influence how I develop "Blood Unbound."

At any rate, I hope you enjoyed "Tsubaki's Revenge." Here's a teaser for "Blood Unbound"…

**Prologue (Blood Unbound)**

News traveled slowly in ancient Japan's human society. No faster could any news go, than that with a man on a galloping horse, and most news, much slower. Most humans never heard more than vague rumors carried by itinerant monks or peddlers, or truly, unless war threatened, knew much of what went beyond the confines of the next closest village.

The youkai gossip network was another thing entirely. News traveled on the breath of the breeze, or the shift of youki winds. Youkai were not limited to mortal senses, and some had ranges that extended far beyond human capability.

Of course, few events even in the youkai world traveled past local concentrations of youkai life. Who cared about a fight between two ogres, as to who was stronger? But the fate of a jewel that could grant any youkai enormous power—ah, now that was a different thing. So was the scandal attached to the taiyoukai who had once ruled the Western Lands, even two centuries after his death.

The pure-blooded son of that taiyoukai would never admit awareness that the youkai grapevine even existed, let alone ever acknowledge that he might conceivably make use of it. For the most part, he had no need of it, with the refinement of senses that no ordinary youkai could match. For the rest, well, that was one reason for tolerating the imp who had decided to follow him around. Jaken gossiped with the best of them, and on rare occasions learned something of possible interest to the youkai lord.

Had it not been for the rumors coming out of the west, he might have paid more attention to the latest whispers about the half-breed. He'd been thoroughly disgusted to hear of the hanyo's involvement with a ningen—a priestess, no less! But it was only one more demonstration that the half-breed had only inherited the weakest part of his father's blood. It hadn't been important enough to divert from his path, to seek the youngster out and destroy him.

The news that the half-breed had somehow made both the Shikon No Tama and himself vanish was puzzling, but he saw no reason to react. The jewel was of no interest. If the half-breed had somehow managed to disappear for good, that was an annoyance, but not worth wasting any thoughts on it.

The news that the stupid hanyo had reappeared and gotten himself caught by yet another miko, one who was so insane as to pursue power by bargaining with youkai attracted rather more of his attention. The thought that anything with a bit of his father's blood should be so weak as to be captured by a ningen was rather revolting. He even shifted his pattern of wandering to range closer to where the execrable hanyo was being held, though he had no plans to rescue the miserable, disgusting creature. Besides, there were still those indications of something happening on the western borders. That needed, and deserved, more of his time, than one misborn half-breed.

But something carried on the breeze this morning brought him to a halt. It was a ghost of a scent, once familiar and strange. It was his brother's scent, and yet, it wasn't. It had shifted, dropping something, adding something. He paused, concentrating on that ghost, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He finally realized what the difference was.

It was entirely youkai, that ghost of a scent. It could have been his father's, or his. Strange, and had he been willing to acknowledge it, disturbing. Sesshomaru stood still, puzzling over the oddity, then made a decision. He changed course. He ignored the impertinent, unimportant question squawked by his follower.

He wasn't going to try and find the hanyo. Not yet. But this direction was as good as any other…


End file.
